#this has made me so happy you have no idea
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Helloo!! Arcane is ending soon, so I was wondering if I could request the Arcane cast reacting to a reader who suspiciously seems to know everything thatâs gonna happen in the plot? They always appear where the action is, and they warn about dangers before they happen, trying to âsubtlyâ change the outcomes of horrible events. Tragedies are a core element of the story, so I feel that the narrative would create another disaster if one event got prevented, but the thought of these characters being safe and happy after all theyâve been through would be so healing :3 Itâs up to you which way you want to take it đđ Iïżœïżœïżœm fine with both platonic and romantic, but Iâd love to see Vi, Jinx and Caitlyn if thatâs ok :)
I love love love your writing, reading your HCâs before bed has become an important part of my day and itâs always a joy to see your work pop up in the tags <3 Thank you for letting us read your creations đ I canât wait to read the second part of your Caitlyn fic!!
The Timekeeper. | Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx x Gn!Reader
I absolutely LOVE this idea, Anon, and I appreciate your request so much!! Also, thank you for your kind words. It really means the world to me reading something so sweet!<33
Content: Angst, can be read as either platonic or romantic tbh, time traveling, fluff, bitter sweet, cursing, spoilers for season 2?, sfw
Reader has no set pronouns.
((Not proofread))
You were always a mysterious figure to them. One that appeared at the right time in the right place whenever they needed you the most.
You never revealed a thing about yourself. You never even told them your name. But one thing they did know was that you had always looked out for them, like a guardian angel in a way.
And on one fateful day, after another evaded tragedy, they finally caught up to you just before you could leave again.
ăVI
"Who the hell are you?" She asked completely out of breath after having practically chased you down through the dense crowd of the undercity. She had seen you so many times before. So, so many times. And every time she did, you were somehow able to save her from certain death by subtly showing her the right way to survive.
It took her a while to piece together that you must've known the outcome of every situation she had ever been in beforehand. That was the only logical answer to the many questions around your existence she could come up with, but it wasn't enough to satiate her desperate curiosity. There were times she had chosen against your signs, and the consequences ended up being almost grave. So whoever you were, you must've had otherworldly knowledge about everything and everyone.
Because whilst she didn't know a thing about you, you certainly knew everything about her.
Raising your hooded head, you idly played with the pocket watch in your hand, piercing eyes meeting her own. "Does that matter?" You ask, and truthfully, it shouldn't. Who cared about your identity when she knew she could trust you? But that wasn't enough. "Yeah, it does to me. Now tell me who you are already. I... I've been seeing you everywhere for years now. You have always been there and I..." She trailed off, suddenly losing her confidence.
She had thought of this moment for years now, imagined exactly what she would say to you. And yet, ultimately, she found herself speechless in your presence that seemed to drown out everyone else around you two. "I see... but my apologies, we were not supposed to meet yet." You said calmly, seemingly undisturbed by her appearance. "Time and fate... they both are so tightly intertwined and yet also so far apart from each other... how odd that the timeline changed so suddenly again, no?" Your words made zero sense in her mind, but that just added to your mystery.
"What-" "-Are you happy with the way your life is going?" You ask, and that made the woman pause in thought. The answer was positive, of course, but only because you had a strong hand in it once she accepted your help. She thought of Powder back home, who was probably happily tinkering away with the young girl Isha they recently took in, and that made her finally nod. "Yes. All thanks to you." "Not at all. It was you who chose your fate. I only showed you the alternative paths."
You two stood there in silence for a moment before she shoved her hands into her pockets and looked over to a nearby bar she liked to frequent in-between missions. "Let's go grab a drink and talk. It's on me." Deciding to accept this new path the timelines had given you, you accept her invitation with a smile.
ăJINX
"You're terrible at your job." "Am I? I like to pride myself in my good work ethic, actually." Jinx was idly swinging her gun back and forth on her index finger whilst she rested up in the ceiling above you, clearly having followed you around secretly. But she knew that you already knew that from the start.
Scoffing at your words, she jumped down and landed in front of your indifferent figure as she pointed the gun right at you. "Pah! You're a funny one... so what are you? A time traveler?" "Ah, I like the title Timekeeper more." You were aggravating but at the same time a familiar face she had grown to appreciate deeply. You were the reason she was doing well in life now, even if she ignored you for a very, very long time. She thought she knew better despite all the odds pointing against her, especially you. Ultimately, she learned her lesson when she finally just listened to you.
"Ugh... whatever. Can't ya at least tell me your name?" "No." "Man, you're such a pain in the butt!" "Likewise." Rolling her eyes, she lowered her gun and lazily leaned against a wall, arms crossed tightly as she observed the crowds passing by from outside the abandoned building you were in. An admittedly comfortable silence fell between you two, one that relaxed her shoulders and made her sigh in defeat after a while. Your presence was always so comforting.
"So, you let me catch up to you this time. Finally tired of the cat and mouse game we've been playing?" You lowered your head at her question, a sly smile on your face that made her narrow her eyes in interest. "Perhaps. Or maybe I just wanted to ask you how you're doing?" What an odd question, considering the context of your meet-up. And yet, it was somehow fitting coming from you specifically. Wasn't your whole mysterious mission revolving around her well-being anyway?
"Shouldn't you know the answer to that, oh so esteemed 'Timekeeper'?" You found no offense in the mockery of your title. Just pure amusement. "I'm afraid that mind reading was not in the initial job listing." Jinx took a moment to think about your question carefully then, deciding to indulge you despite her better judgment. Things were good now, after all. She, Isha, and Vi were together again as a family, including Vander, even if they had yet to find a way to turn him back properly. But everything was happy otherwise... because you made sure that the end to her story wouldn't be a painfully tragic one.
"... I'm fine. Everything's fine." She muttered, and your smile widened at that answer. "So... I'm not terrible at my job, after all?" Pressing a playful hand to her chin, Jinx acted as though she was in deep thought. "Hmmm... I guess I'll need more convincing than all of this to decide." "Of course... then how about we start with running away before the Enforcers show up to raid this place in approximately... 2 minutes?"
Jinx rolled her eyes again with a grin but agreed to follow you, very much glad to have learned her lesson at your side throughout the years.
ăCAITLYN
She was ignorant towards your judgment from the start, especially as she was able to analyze very quickly that you weren't all you claimed you were. You were too smart, too fast, too aware of everything. It was clear that you already knew how her life story especially would come to an end. But that didn't mean that she'd always listen to you.
Caitlyn believed to know better, even going as far as to protest against your word, which she had learned to be fate itself. And sometimes she'd nearly get away with her life, and on others, you'd be the one to show up just in time to save her. It was embarrassing and at times even near humiliating, but you never judged her, just silently left every time she attempted to confront you.
And this time she had finally succeeded.
Now dressed in a formal uniform, she watched your still form stare out of a window in her estate, as though you weren't practically trespassing. But Caitlyn was used to that. "It's going to rain soon. I wonder if the construction workers will get done with the restoration on time today before the first drops fall." The navy haired woman came to stand next to you, ears finely tuned to your calming voice she had heard in her dreams and mind for so many years. It felt surreal to stand next to you at last.
"You already know the answer... but I think Mother will send out guards soon to retrieve them." Her mother, who had only narrowly escaped her death, if it wasn't for you. She had only gotten a little injured from falling debris, but that was all that happened. All of the councilors and people in the building had survived the Jinx attack. No grave injuries. All because you prevented it by throwing Jinx slightly off balance enough to make her shot not as precise.
"... Thank you." "For what?" The right answer would be absolutely everything, but she refrained, noting that you didn't seem keen on praise. You saw it as your job. As your duty to her for a reason unknown. "For saving my mother." That should do.
You nodded at her words in acknowledgment as your eyes spied Ambessa retreating with her troops in defeat. They were practicing chased away by the council since their help was unwelcome. Served them right for meddling with the business of other nations. You had exposed their ulterior motives in secret, and that's all it took for the tide to turn against them. "Just my duty." "I knew you'd say that... but I want to reward you for all you've done. If it wasn't for you... then I... I don't want to know what I would have become."
You glanced at her with an unreadable look in your eye, and that reconfirmed her suspicions regarding how deep she would have fallen otherwise. It's best not to think of it.
Humming to yourself in thought, you gave her a small smile. "Very well, if you insist... you can treat me to some fine tea and cookies." Caitlyn weakly mirrored your grin, relief filling her senses at you accepting her offer. She was worried you wouldn't. "Of course. Follow me." Linking your arms together carefully, you made your way through the dim halls.
A chuckle left your lips when it indeed began to rain.
#arcane#arcane x reader#arcane x y/n#arcane x you#arcane vi x you#arcane vi x reader#vi#vi x reader#arcane vi#arcane caitlyn x reader#arcane caitlyn#caitlyn x reader#caitlyn#caitlyn kiramman#arcane jinx#arcane jinx x reader#jinx#jinx x reader#jinx x y/n#arcane x genderneutral reader
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The negative reactions to HDG are really interesting to me because the "problematic" elements are certainly not new or even presented in an extreme form. I think there are a lot of people in the political left who treat independence and self determination as sacred concerns that should be placed above all other concerns - it is morally better to cling to scraps or even the illusion of self determination than to give it up for a significant increase in quality of life.
Several years ago, well before the first HDG stories, I had a discussion with one such person based around the idea of daily food preparation and how much of a burden it could be. The discussion came down to this: I put forward the idea a "freedom" is only useful to a person if they value it. Otherwise it simply becomes a burden. I made the claim that if I never had to manage determining when to eat, what to eat, or preparing that food again at the cost of never being able to choose what I eat, then I would make that trade without hesitation (assuming a benevolent someone choosing for me). The person I was discussing this with could not accept this, and we ran through all the reasons why until, ultimately, all they had left was "It feels like giving up." which they insisted important enough to override all other concerns.
My time, my peace of mind, my health, my happiness, even the fact that I have very little practical choice in what I eat anyway due to fatigue and financial limits, did not matter as much as what they saw as a moral imperative to cling to a scrap of self determination.
I think a lot of people who react so negatively to HDG that they have to go out of their way to harp on it are dealing with it on that level. Self determination and Independence are moral imperatives, and in that respect HDG is a deal with the devil. You get everything you ever want or need, and the only price is your soul self determination.
It brings up a few very uncomfortable ideas that challenge their world view, including: First, many people do not consider the pursuit of self determination for its own sake as an overriding moral concern - meaning their set of values are not necessarily objective. Second, many rational people would make this bargain. Finally, the amount of people in the world that would be much better off having made such a bargain is uncomfortably high because the scraps and illusions of self determination they have are basically without real value and our standard of living is just that low.
Makes people very uncomfortable to think about it, so it's easier to just say "You shouldn't enjoy HDG stuff because it's problematic!"
TL:DR - The fact is that we are so very far below the bar of a society that is acceptable on even basic levels that many people's standard of living has them looking up at being a favored pet to a benevolent owner. As a kink setup? That's hot. As an assessment of the state of affairs of our society? Very uncomfortable for some people to think about, so they get mad when people have fun thinking about it.
A critique I've seen of HDG is "you'd have no control over your life" and idk, I feel like I have so little control over my life now.
the main difference is here it's due to capitalism, ableism, and transphobia and I have to largely take care of myself. Whereas in HDG, I would be fed, clothed, my disabilities accommodated for, my transition would be done in a week And I'd have a large hot plant person caring for me the entire time.
If I'd have no control over my life, at least HDG is safe and sexy
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đđđđđđđđ | Lucien De Leon x reader
â masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi
summary | it was never a favor, allowing him to take up space in your apartment. but, time after time, he finds his way back and somehow, it brings an unexpected normalcy to your life.
author's note | in my heart, it's still flores. but canonically its de leon. i had the opportunity to watch the movie and hot take, it was...alright. but pedro's character made me just as feral as i expected. so here's this absolute monster for no reason other than, well, me ovulating.
content warning | 18+ mdni, the uninvited spoilers, set post-movie, roommates to lovers, enemies to lovers, reader works in the film industry, financial hardship, shitty living situations, lucien is a schmooze and a drunk, but also a sweetheart, angst, feelings, reader has shit luck with dating, there's also smut in here somewhere i swear (oral, couch sex, unprotected piv, all the good stuff)
word count â 11k (sorry lmfao)
âLucien?â You grumble around the chewy granola bar youâve snatched from the craft table, âLucien De Leon?â
The agent, Lucienâs agentâJames, also working for a few of the on-set cast, looked hopeless.
He nods, squeezing tight at the phone in his hand, one more inconvenience text from snapping it in half.
âNo,â You refuse, chewing at the sweet and sticky granola, âwhyâwhy me? My tiny apartment?â
âHeâs exhausted any other chance,â The agent explains vaguelyâyeah, real convincing, this guy, âlistenâI like you, youâve helped me in plenty of binds. Itâll be two weeks before heâs leaving for work, I just need somewhere to keep him for a while.â
âYouâre making it seem like Iâd be dog sitting or something,â You retort, watching as the agent glanced down at his phone, notifications spilling in, âthis is Lucienâcontroversy magnet, and heâs rudeââ
âYouâve gotta get to know himââ
âThe one set Iâve worked on with him he spilled my coffee on me and acted like I made him do it. Fuck him, tell him to sleep on a bench.â
âIâll pay you,â He scrambles, âJustâplease?â
You pause, narrowing your gaze. Being a production assistant hadnât been the life of luxury, minimal pay in an overpriced city in a shitty apartment with barely decent and affordable rent was nothing short of miserable.
âHow much?â
âA thousand,â He offersâa shrug of uncertainty follows.
Silence stretches.
âTwo thousand? Come onâthatâs a thousand for each week.â
âMake it three and youâve got a deal.â
The agent is quiet for a few seconds before he caves, sighing heavily, âFuck, fine. Three. Can I drop him off tonight?â
âTonight?â You balk, âYou know, youâre actually the worst.â
His hands grip your shoulders, shaking you with far too much force than needed, âYouâre a lifesaver, thank you.â
Heâs long gone and buried in a phone call before you grumble a disgruntled, âYouâre welcome.â
-
You consider later that evening that disclosing the recentâŠactivities around your apartment complex would have been a good idea, especially with someone as high profile as Lucien taking up space in your one bedroom apartment.
Three break-ins in the past two weeks, noisy and unruly neighbors both above and sandwiching youâit wasnât exactly peaceful or safe, but it was something.Â
You wait with a creeping anxiety as you tap your chopsticks against the homemade ramen youâve made for yourself, one true moment of happiness in the day as youâre finally sitting down to relax, feet aching terribly.
It was coffee runs and constant back and forths over forgotten supplies or paperworkâit was the perfect job to keep you active and on your toes, never sure when someone might blow up on you for whatever reason it may beâyou were nothing special, helpful, but when it came down to it, you were more or less in the way, so you often made yourself small out of habit.Â
The knock that startles you is hurried, like a panic. It sends your heart rate skyrocketing but your name echoes on the other side of the door, scrambling to open the door, youâre faced with two men.
The agent, James, a decent man despite his unorganized and erratic personalityâand Lucien, a piss poor disguise covering his face.
You snort, addressing the ball cap and sunglasses with an amused expression, it was doing nothing to cover the instantly recognizable wispy brown hair of his and aquiline noseâthe upcoming king of stage and screen. It was a wonder he even made it here in one piece.
âA natural chameleon,â You joke, widening your door to let them insideâthe apartment was clean, thankfully. Youâd scramble to get home after work and pick up, given you didnât have much time to actually prepare, âseriouslyâget inside before someone clocks you.â
The agent stays though, like his feet were planted.
âHeâs all yours,â He tells you, âyouâve got my numberâdonât let him leave. Iâll check in when I can. Keep an eye out for paps.â
âHey, noââ You interject, watching as the agent turned on his heels and departed, âwe didnât agree toââ, turning the corner with a shout of a long, helpless, âthat!â
You sigh with a deep frown, turning over your shoulder to find Lucien with a chopstick in hand, noodle dangling from the utensil with a curious face, sniffing it cautiously.Â
âHey!â You chastise, plucking the chopstick from his fingers, âStop that.â
He looks at you curiously, obviously taken aback by your tone of voice and lack of intimidation by him, like a startled cat.
Jesus, okay.
You force a calming breath through your nose and look up at him, âWould you like some?â
âIs it gluten free?â Lucien inquires, peering over your shoulder at the still steaming hot bowl of soup.
âActually, yeah,â Your brow furrows, âitâit is.â
âSure,â He shrugs, beginning to remove his cap and glasses, along with his jacket, resting them haphazardly on the kitchen island as he takes a seat on the only other unoccupied barstool in your kitchen.
âOh no,â You swiftly rectify his actions, âweâre not doing thisâthereâs a coat rack for a reason and a shelf by the door for things like,â You walk toward the front door, hand circling the object like a cherished belonging, âkeysâsunglasses, hats,â You stress the final two words and point at the items before jutting your thumb frustratingly at the door, ââif you donât mind, while I make your dinner.â
It was clear heâs spent most of the past several years with people ready and waiting on him, never questioning or ordering around, but it was basic human decency, you werenât going to allow him to be amiss to it.
He obliges quietly, a surprise to you. You hide the satisfied smirk as you pour the broth into the bowl along with the noodles before placing the bowl on his side of the island, placing another dish near him, scattered with different toppings.
Lucien looks silently intrigued, the ends of his mouth curling down in interest as he sprinkles various toppings over his food, beginning to eat silently as you return to your own meal.
After a long enough silence and Lucienâs occasional slurping you decide to set a hard boundary, given the various personalities youâve dealt with in the industry, it was you being proactive out of habit.
âLet me be clear, Iâm not doing this out of the goodness of my heart,â You inform him, locking eyes with his intense stare, something you hadnât forgotten, not since the on-set incident, âThis is still my home. Donât be an asshole about it.â
âJames said you were a firecracker,â Lucien smirks slightly, resting his chopsticks along the top of the bowl, âand a little bit of a bitch, butââ
âGood, he hasnât lost his mind then.â
âDonât worry, Iâm a professional at this shit now. You wonât even know Iâm here.â
Highly unlikely, you think.
He even makes a point by grabbing his bowl and emptying it before placing it in the sink before extending his hand out to your own bowl. You watch him wash the dishes, something that looks unnatural, but you arenât going to complain.
âYou always cook like that?â Lucien asks curiously over the running water, head turning over his shoulder briefly.
âNo, only Friday. I never have time otherwise, work isâŠbusy,â A generous way to describe it, but Lucien doesnât seem to care or question, drying off the last dish before extending his hands out by his side in a grand gesture.
Maybe he was expecting a roaring applause, but you donât give him the satisfaction. You offer him a genuine thank you but it doesnât extend beyond that before youâre trailing a few feet over toward the living room, a clean pillow and blanket draped over the couch, along with a fitted sheet if he felt like using it. It was all unmade, allowing him to set it up himself.
âAlso,â You clasp your hands together at your front, âJames didnât mention this because I didnât tell him but weâve had a string of break-ins for a while now, soâalways keep the deadbolt locked. Please.â
His eyes widen, looking around the apartment for the quickest escape. You were on the seventh floor, the only other escape option was a less than reliable balcony that you barely used.
âI have a bat,â You tell him, before pointing toward the door beside the entrance, âin the shoe closet, but I think weâre okay.â
âThink?â
You shrug, âIt hasnât happened yet, but the police have shit response time around here.â
Lucien looks overwhelmed, but nods.
âOh, and the neighbors like to have really loud sexâwalls are thin. Have fun.â
âNo puedo creer esta mierdaââ He mumbles under his breath as you turn your back, a sharp flap of a sheet, and a short laugh from you follows.
âBlame your agent, Lucien.â
He didnât think youâd understand him, but your astute hearing proved otherwise.Â
Lucien was putting on an act with his gesture, clearly.Â
He doesnât respond, pouting his way through the process of setting up his new bed for the next couple weeks in silence, ignoring the soft click to your door as you turn in for the night, the creeping and soft city noises filtering in through the thin apartment walls.
It wouldnât be an easy night but he's never really liked big, empty houses anyways.
â
The weekend is uneventful; you fear it might be a dream, too good to be true, a complete fluke.
Maybe he had a change of heart overnight, but Lucien is overly polite.
He deconstructs his bed both mornings, packing it away in a corner of the living room, listening to the television at a reasonable volume with fresh coffee in the coffee pot, he cleans up his dishes and leaves a marginal mess.Â
The real kickerâhe has the ability to keep the toilet seat down with your now shared bathroom attached to your bedroom, a realâŠgentleman.Â
You eyed him suspiciously most of the day, when heâs unaware and preoccupied, wondering when the facade would drop. Does he even remember the coffee incident?Â
He had to, right?
He approaches with a silent gesture of his emptied cup as you fill your own.
Fineâyou pull the cup from his grip and fill it to the brim, sliding it back over carefully.
He sips gingerly as he raises it to his lip before speaking, âSâgood coffee.â
âThanks,â You answer nonchalantly, pouring a generous amount of sugar and cream into your coffee and stirring, watching as the dark black lightened into a soft brown, âare you a coffee guy?â
âIâm an anything guy,â Lucien responds, âbutâgood, itâs good. Iâm impressed.â
âWhy?â You ask with a little more bark than needed, a flippant tone rounding out your morning irritation as you readied for work. âAre youâyou really donât remember, do you?â
Lucien raised his eyebrows in question, expectant.
âYour last job, up in Hollywood Hills. You spilled coffee all over me, blamed me, then got me suspended for a week, because of your outburst. I barely managed rent that monthâ
His eyes narrow, recollecting the thought like heâd been stricken with temporary amnesia.
âYouâre all so much of the same, yâknow?â You continue, sipping generously from your cup as his face relaxes, following your movements with a casual glance. âCocky, egotistical, little dicked men. Without me you wouldnât have that ridiculous fifteen dollar hyper whateverthefuck water you insisted you needed in your trailer, or your dry cleaning? God forbid. Seriously, fuck you.â
âWaitââ Lucien staunches, hold his hand up in pause, âhold onââ
You wait for approximately half a second before you roll your eyes, pushing beyond him to gather your bag and keys, âYou know, I donât need a disingenuous apology. Iâm not doing this as a favor. Iâm being paid.â
James had lied to him, that much he was figuring out as he processed the situation. You werenât someone offering up free charity, a helping hand for a starving actor in needâexcept that wasnât the case for him. Despite his team's careful guidance; he was a repeat offender of bad choices and money management, a part-time alcoholic, and a serial flirt. He knew how to play his hand and he was good at it, but with youâit was clear that you were a challenge.
But, it was only a couple weeks. He could survive that. He was a people person first and foremost and heâd charm the hell out of you if given the opportunity.Â
âJames said heâd be by in an hour to pick you up for your meetings todayâlock the door when you leave. Please.â
Still speechless, he watches you leave with a stiff, crisp shut of the door.
He couldnât remember, racking his brain for one incident after another. His own fair share made him cringe in hindsight, but heâŠcouldnât remember. Heâd almost hoped you were a fresh face, leaving him free of judgment, but it was clear that this situation was about pure survival.
-
âYou did do that,â James confirmed to him as they left the first brand meeting that morning, âIt was the morning of the big awards showâyou remember?â He doesnât wait for Lucienâs response, continuing, âPoor kid got her ass chewed out and had to take a trip to the clinic for the burns. It wasâŠa mess. Never cried, though. Iâll give her that.â
And, like a strike of a match, it floods back. Youâre shocked expression, mouth slightly agape as the sting of pain settled in, bracing for the impact of Lucienâs wrath because you knew. A man allergic to accountability, oozing power, it was almost too easy.
âShit.â
âYeah. Apologies seem pointless now, but it could help. ButâŠbe genuine.â
âIâm genuine.â
James gives him a certain look, one that argues otherwise.
âI am.â
Only time would tell, really.
By the end of your work day, it was with great relief as you stepped through the door of your apartment until you remembered one fine detail you had told Lucien more than once.
Lock the door.
The eeriness hits you as the door clicks shut behind you, the place falling into a dead silence for a brief moment, your bag hitting the counter as you maneuvered your keys between your fingers, ready to take on what you could with what little strength you had to offer.
Just maul their face off, that seemed like the best option.
You count the seconds in your head, breath held tight and constricted in your chest. You quickly check the available pathwaysâliving room, kitchen, before slipping down the hall, left with the only room to flee if not away from your apartment.
Bedroom light off, not a thing out of place, pristine evenâbut your eyes track toward the bathroom light seeping underneath the gap in the door. With careful, measured movements you approach the door although you havenât thought through the actual process of what you wanted to do.
But, before you can react the door is swinging open as the bathroom is plunged into darkness, revealing a sopping wet Lucien, towel tied tight around his waist as he slings a smaller one over his shoulders, completely relaxed until he spots you.
Both of you screamâyou out of anger and fear, Lucien at the incoming hand that he snatches by the wrist, your eyes landing on each other, your nostrils flaring in frustration.
âYouâre insane!â Lucien shouts, shoving your hand away, âYou nearly tore my face off.â
âI thought you were an intruder,â You seethe, ââwhat kind of maniac showers with the front door unlocked while home alone?â
âYou said you had a bat,â Lucien excuses, âI could have defended myself.â
You sigh, plucking the keys from your grip before you toss them on your bed, stepping away from Lucien and away from the radiating heat of his body as it glistened, obnoxiously.
âGet out,â You snap, âget outâgoââ
âI was just gonnaâŠgrab my clothes and come change in,â He weakly gestures toward the bathroom, earning a sharp look of distaste in his direction, âalrightâalright, Jesus.â
He pauses for a moment, though. Before the lightbulb clicks on and heâs scrambling into the living room and back in record time, shoving a small white envelope into your hands.
âWhat is this?â You ask tensely, blindly ripping at the seal as you stare at him.
âItâs uhâwhat I owe you, for the coffee thing. IâŠI remember now. Figured I could pay you for the work I made you missâŠis that about right?â
You peer at the wad of cash. It was indeed, enough.
âYouâre unbelievable,â You reply, shaking your head.
It gives him false hope, wondering if it was all going to be brushed under the rug and that he could continue the rest of his stay in a somewhat semblance of peace, but then your expression flips and ohâŠthatâs notâŠ
âAre you physically incapable of saying the words âIâm sorryïżœïżœâwould it kill you? Allergic to accountability? God, you know what, Iâm gonna call James and tell him I just canât doââ
âNo,â Lucien panics, hand around your bicep as you attempt to push past him, immediately recognizing the fierceness of his grip he loosens it, calms himself, ânoâplease, listenâŠIâŠI didnât think youâd care enough to hear it. I do remember now and I was a dick, I was trying to offer a gesture of good faith. Peace, even?â
âIs this even your money?â You ask curiously, brow furrowed as you help up the envelope.
âYeah, yeahâI pulled it out of my savings. Why? Do youâŠnot want it?â
You quickly snatch the envelope away, âNo, Iâll take it. But, words mean a lot. Like calling me an ignorant little bitch.â
âOkay, okay. I am sorry. I had a lot going on and I know that isnât an excuse either, but I am.â
You tilt your head in examination, peering through the raw emotion on his face, whether he was putting on a masterclass in acting or not, it was believable enough. You could remain bitter, even if it meant suffering in silence, but you liked the peace just as much as he, so you compromise.
âYou still have to get out,â You inform him, walking your fingers tauntingly toward the door, âand I swear, Lucien, if you used all the hot waterââ
-
Lucien was insistent about rehearsing at least five hours a day, even on weekends. Luckily, most of those days you were spared, but when youâre barricaded away in your bedroom, sound travels. And Lucien doesn't care much to stifle his performance, maybe it was a weapon to backfire at your inconsiderate neighbors, but it was driving you insane.
Heâs stuck on one scene, clearly a building tension that explodes and apparently he canât nail, having heard the lines a hundred times over through the muffled wallsâyour first instinct was to complain, tell him take it elsewhere, but you remember your deal with James. Lucien just needed a place to stay for a while and this was his job.
Eventually, you poke your head through your bedroom door with a cautious expression, watching Lucien examine his face in the mirror, filing through various emotions before he finally gives up, tossing the script against the counter.
He spots you as he turns, already gearing up to apologize or maybe even excuseâbut instead, you speak.
âIs it for an audition?â
âHowâd you know?â
âThe yelling, the emotionâI guess? I help on set with self tapes from time to time. Iâve learned to spot the difference between just memorizing lines and trying to feel the script.â
Lucien pushes his lips out in thought, tongue rolling over his teeth as his hands settle against his hips, pushing the sweatpants lower on his hips as he stands, deliberating.
âJust ask,â You tell him.
âYou any good?â
It was a genuine question, not meant to attack your own ego. Besides, it makes you laugh.
âIâll get your good side,â You promise him, surfacing from your room as you beckon for his phone with your hand, getting straight to work.
It only takes a few minutes to find a solid place to set up, against one of your cream colored walls, pictureless and plain, but with ample lighting from inside and out, it highlighted the wispy grays in Lucienâs untamed curls hanging over his forehead, the wrinkles creasing there as he looked down at the script and examined the text.
âDo you have them memorized?âÂ
Lucien nods absently, his finger trailing down the side of the paper until it was suddenly gone, snatched from his hands with a smile on your face as you pointed for him to slide into frame. You take a step back, watching the screen with a careful eye before motioning with a finger for him to move a few centimeters to the left, âThere. Perfect.â
You flatten out the creased paper as you speak, âFrom the top?â
Lucien smiles halfheartedlyâthe stress washing from his face for a momentâand nods.
â
You could keep up, that much was obvious.
Lucien is used to the monotone voice on the other side of the camera during auditions, forced tones and half-cocked emotion, it was hard to act against and with, but heâs learned to push through for the sake of a role.Â
It was an emotional scene, almost a requirement to have that intensity to act against and Lucien caught your eye line at one point, face buried in the script as you uttered the lines with teary eyes, letting your own emotion fill you to the brim and flow out, giving him a real and authentic reaction to act against.
He watched it back with a grin, mostly out of his own cocky admiration for himself but the secret youâve been hoarding, a welcome surprise.
âHave you never considered acting?â Lucien asks curiously, emailing the video off to his agent.
âCameras are daunting,â You shrug, folding and filing away some freshly washed towels as Lucien reclined on your couch, âI prefer being behind them.â
âYouâre a natural,â He offers honestly, âthatâs really rare.â
You shake your head in amusement as you riffled through the unfolded laundry, separating in different piles until you come across a no longer white blouse, stained a soft pinkâand of course, Lucien. It was Lucien who offered to take laundry down the night prior, needing a moment away from being cooped up in the apartment, swearing he had it under control.
âI told you not to put this in the wash load with the colors! Look at thisââ You held up the obviously stained blouse, crumpling up the fabric and tossing it to the couch with a frustrated huff.
âTo be fair, itâs been years since I did my own laundry,â Lucien responds casually, ââdonât worry, Iâll have James buy you another.â
Your face twitches, actually twitches.
âNo, noâitâŠitâs fine. Itâs only a shirt,â You tuck a loose hair behind your ear as you heave the towels into your arm, âjustâwhites and colors, always separate them.â
And while living with Lucien had mellowed out some, it was still tumultuous at times.
Fighting over the bathroom was a regular occurrence, both of you guilty. But, that could be worked through, it wasnât the end of the world. Occasionally it was the lights, a bad habit of Lucienâs to leave them lingering in his wait, lamps and fixtures, nothing was safe. Opened cabinets, items forgotten and out of place. It was all tedious and frustrating, picking and choosing your battles as they came, brushing far too much under the rub for the sake of peace.
You knew it was almost over, enjoying a quiet night to yourself while Lucien was apparently out at dinnerâyou werenât sure, you didnât really care, but you enjoyed the glimpse of what was to return to you, tucked away on the couch while half-dressed, hand stuffed into a freshly popped bowl of popcorn.
It was Friday and your neighbors never failed to come home from a rowdy night of partying with everything but sleeping on their mind, getting straight to business and your grab for the remote was immediate, turning up the volume to drown out the obnoxious moans and groans of drunk sex happening on the other side of the wall.
Lucien arrives back somewhere near the middle of the movie, the soft laughs from you pulling his attention to the couch as he clocked the nineties rom-com on the television, your cheek resting against your balled up fist, placing his wallet against the counter to signal his entrance.
âLoud enough for you?â Lucien jokes, approaching the singular piece of furniture in your living room, fingertips pressing against the arm of the couch as he takes in your appearance, shirt barely reaching beyond mid-thigh, thick socks keeping you warm as you curled in on yourself, careless that Lucien was definitely looking you make a noise in question, the words processing in a delayed manner.
You reach for the remote, pausing the movie briefly to reveal the reason; the insistent thump of wood against cheap sheetrock and moans, squealy and high-pitched, forcing a raised eyebrow from Lucien that needed no words.
âNevermind,â He concedes,hands thrown up in defeat with a chuckle hidden behind his teeth, walking closer to examine the screen, filing through his internal rolodex of films and drawing a blank.
âAre you going to keep standing there like a total weirdo or are you going to watch the movie?â You ask with a joking tone, tucking your feet underneath you as you made room, glancing down at your phone as a notification brought the screen to life.
Lucien catches the faint tug of a smile on your face as you type away, clicking the phone into sleep mode a few moments later before continuing the movie without a word.
Youâre not sure which one of you succumbs to sleep first, but it didnât matter, finding that you both aligned together easily as you slept, covered with a blanket that Lucien must have snatched somewhere near without disturbing youâand when you wake in the middle of the night, complex quiet throughout, you canât even find it in you to move.
â
Lucienâs length of stay was diminishing quickly and you were relieved, only a few more days and things would be back to normal, youâd be three thousand dollars richer, and you wouldnât have to confront the fact that Lucien wasnât entirely as bad as he seemed, temper aside.
Youâre both on your way out the door on a weekday morning when you spot him, navy blue hoodie draping his body, one you favored because of its size and comfortability.
âThatâs mine,â You utter as youâre fisting your keys into your hand and tucking a makeup applicator away in your bag, âthatâsâŠmineâwhy is it on your body?â
Lucien looks down, perplexed. He couldâve sworeâŠ
âItâs mine, I swear,â Youâre peering over his shoulder and pulling at the collar, examining the tag by his neck, or lack thereofâyou always cut them out, hated the feeling against your skin.
âItâs mine,â You say with finality, âBut, itâs fine. Iâve been meaning to replace it anyways. And now that youâve worn it, definitely.â
âOuch,â Lucien chuckles, shaking his head at your bluntness, âI guess I deserve that. I did think it was mine, though. Swear. Mustâve gotten mixed up somehow.â
 âOh, well, just burn it nowâoh, shit, before I forget,â You point your finger at his chest, stopping him in his tracks, âIâve got a date tonight. Iâll more than likely be gone when you get back here. Iâm leaving a key under the mat, you know the deal. Respect itâŠprotect it like you give a shit if anything happens, itâs all I have.â
âDate?â Lucien teases, âSoundsââ
âWeâre not doing this,â You cut him short, finger raising higher in reprimand, âdonât do that.â
Again, Lucien values his well-being, so he admits defeat.Â
It was difficult for him, his eagerness to please and charm, to command the conversation and impressâbut with you, it was impossible. Truly, it was mesmerizing to him.
It was several hours later when Lucien arrived at the apartment, pointedly locking the door behind him as you had reminded him several timesâhe wasnât completely aloof.
His orders takeout on a whim, disguised under a fake name and the careful directions to leave at the door, having practiced the art of subtly when it came to laying low, enjoying a couple beers from a pack James had bought him as a small celebration for a week of good, decent meetings.Â
Things had been looking up recently and it made Lucien unsettled in a way, but thankful nonetheless, sipping at the beer generously and relaxing well into the night, dusk turning to black skies and few twinkling star lights, drowned out by the thick smog of city pollution. It started raining eventually, a soft pattern picking up gradually and he, for natural reasoning, is slightly concerned. So, he stays up despite some lingering exhaustion, barely hitting a quarter beyond eight oâclock when the door handle rattles, soft curses on the other side of the door that send him to his feet, peering through the peephole to spot a sufficiently blurry outline of you.
And what he opens the door to is not what heâs expecting, although, he wasnât even sure what he was expecting in the first place, but thisâŠit wasnât it.
You were wet, clothes dripping and rain water pooling at your feet, everything sticking to you like an uncomfortable glue, cold and shivering, your bottom lip trembling.
Without thinking, Lucien shifts into action.Â
He doesnât ask a single question, not at first. Silently pulling the items off of you as you allow him; keys and purse first, clanging against the counter before heâs pulling your coat of, blouse, even kneeling down to remove your shoes before heâs carrying the clothes to the bathroom with you in tow, turning on the shower until it was steaming up the mirrors, heat radiating through the room as you pulled at the button of your jeans weakly, fumbling with cold and feeble hands.
He holds his hands up, careful not to approach in a way that would startle you or force you into attack mode, which seemed unlikely with the disheartened look on your face and he asks quietly, âDo you need help?â
Youâre quiet for a long, tense moment before you nod, trying to quell the full body shivers as he assists you in stripping down to your underwear, also soaked. He pulls the curtain back and helps you over the side of the tub with the solid weight of his hand and speaks again despite your silence, âIâll wait in your roomâdo you need anything?â
It doesnât take a genius to piece things together as Lucien settles against the edge of the bed and it angers him for some forlorn reason, a feeling he hasnât experienced in a long time. When the shower cuts off, he straightens, hesitatesâshould he leave?Â
Youâd want privacy, right? Yeah. No, definitely.
He rises to his feet without another thought, his awful timing sending you straight into his chest as you swung the door open, towel snug around your body and smelling sharply of fresh, citrus body wash.
âS-sorry,â You stammer out, âyou donâtâyou donât have to wait around, Lucien. Or give a shit, either. I donât expect you to and I donât careââ
It was unusually cold. Heâs become familiar with your snark, that sharp and cunning personality, but this was different. This was a push, a defense of hard and impenetrable walls building up before his eyes and he speaks without thinking, hoping that it slips through the cracks.
âRegardless, Iâll listen,â Lucien providesâit wasnât an overwhelming expression of fake, forced care or, god forbid, love. But, it was a raw enough response that it grabs your attention, ââif you want me to.â
â
He cranked up the heat while you dressed, flipped open his leftover takeout, and listened. You werenât used to this and for a while, you were half-expecting him to find a way to turn the situation on himself, a sob story for a sob story. But, he doesnât.
âThis sushiâŠâ You savor the taste, eyes falling closed.
âGood, isnât it?â Lucien smirks, popping another into his mouth with careful precision, chopsticks in hand.
You could cry, it was such a strong and startling feeling that it caught you off-guard, âYeah, really good.â
You clear your throat, tears shoved aside, âHave you ever ditched a date before?â
Lucien shakes his head with a subtle frown.
âRight, Lucien De Leon,â You respond jokingly, that magical emphasis around his name, âany woman would be dying for all ofâŠ.this,â You gesture to him lazily with a faux disgust that couldnât even be forced, both of you divulging into a laugh.
âHey, you said it,â Lucien shrugs with a pointed wink that you shouldnât find so attractive, but the natural charm he emits makes it impossible, ââbut, no. Canât say I have.â
âEven the ones who wouldnât put out?â
âAt the risk of sounding like an assholeââ Lucien begins, but you follow the rhythm of the conversation and it isnât long before the lightbulb strikes on and youâre nodding.
âRight, you probably donât have an issue in that department. Stupid question, sorry.â
You pluck the last piece of sushi off the styrofoam and chew, speaking behind your hand, âI shouldâve known that dude was a prick, only stared at my tits the entire date.â
Out of reflex, his eyes drag to your chest and you click the movement in an instant, âNot helping,â You warn him lightly, âI guess I was too blunt, he keptâŠtouching me. I told him I didnât feel comfortable going back to his place, he made some excuse to go to the bathroom and I waited for a half hour. Until the server came by with the billâso, not only did he ditch me, I paid a hundred dollar tab and I didnât even eat my food.â
Even in Lucienâs wild days, he couldnât imagine doing that. Not when he was drinking more heavily, partying, hooking up on a daily basisâbefore his first failed marriage, it was foreign to him.Â
âYou couldâve called me, or James, shitâan uber.â
âPhone died,â You shrug lamely, âit doesnât matter, anyways. And donât get me wrong, casual sexâitâs fine, but I got too hopeful, I guess. All men are the same.â
âCome on,â Lucien jests, âthatâs not fair.â
âFine, enlighten me, then.â
âYou canât expect fairytale shitâI mean, Iâm one failed marriage and plenty of missteps in my life. Do you think Iâm a bad guy?â
âDo you want me to answer that honestly?âÂ
Lucien sighs in defeat, scratching at his mused hair as he tosses the empty food container aside.
âIâm fucking with you,â You offer in a quieter toneâeven if you werenât friends with him, he didnât have to put in the effort to help or listen, but he was, âIâmâjust, thank you.â
âIâm in good graces now?â Lucien asks curiously, that playful mischief gracing his face with a smile.
You make a motion with your hand from your head as you grab, like pulling a thought and throwing it away, âCoffee incident? Forgottenâunless you pull some heinous shit.â
âYou know, I might actually miss this,â His finger does a swirling motion, encompassing your living room, âyouâeh,â a shaky hand motion that earns a jab to his thigh from your foot, âshit, ouchâthat was a joke.â
âI know,â You concede with a smirk, ââI wonât, though. I want my couch back. And my bathroom.â
âIf it makes you feel better, I think youâre a catch,â He tells you, âalthough, I do like the ones that bite, soââ
You reach forward this time, swatting playful at his chest with the back of your hand, but his fast reflexes beat you, your fingers smacking into solid rings.
He snickers softly and examines the grimace on your face as you pull back, âPobrecita,â He coos mockingly, reaching for your hand and pressing a gentle kiss against the skin, âsee what I mean?â
You ignore the heat that strikes through your body like a freshly lit match, pulling your hand away with a distinct eye roll.Â
Heâd be gone soon and this would all be a ridiculous memory to think back on.Â
There was no room for newly evolving feelings, or worse, infatuation.Â
â
The three months you spend falling back into your normal routine is monotonous, safe, but the kind of security that has you itching for change. You find yourself checking on Lucien more often than you should, regular social media checks, the occasional subtle question to James when you happened to catch him on set. It wasnât healthy, but you couldnât help yourself.Â
He did seem more erratic, often coming across other quick clips and social media stories of him at the club during waking hours, pure reckless abandon, he was having the time of his lifeâyou couldnât blame him, but it wasâŠslightly alarming.
It was a Saturday night when all hell broke loose, police sirens raining down the street as you raced to your open window, peering down at the obscured face of a man in cuffs as he was roughly shoved into a police car before thereâs a pounding knock at the door, your heart nearly bursting out of your chest at the sound.
Turning on your heels and swinging the door open, you canât help but find yourself speechless at the sight.
âThink they caught your burglar,â Lucien notes under his baseball cap, eyes catching the cascading red and blue lights outside your window, duffel bag at his feet and a regretful look on Jamesâ face.
You tilt your head at the discovery, your brain working overtime before your eyes widen.
âJust hear him out,â He pleads with prayer like hands, phone sandwiched between two begging palms, âLucienâgo,â
Lucien seems to stutter-step in his mind, not expecting to be the one leading this proposition as he side-eyes James, âIâŠneed a place to stayâŠagain,â Lucien squints his eyes and stares up at the ceiling, looking almost embarrassed, âfor the next six months.â
âNo,â You nearly shout out incredulously, âthe first time wasnât a trial run.â
Thereâs a long moment of tense eye contact and uncertainty.
An underlying worry in your gut at the sight of Lucien, a little worse for wear but still mostly himself, gripping tightly at his carry-on bag in his hand, thumb rubbing nervously at the leather strap.
Goddammit.
â
Heâs paying the entire six months of rent he planned on staying there while he filmed for a movie they were shooting a short ten minute drive from your complex, a quaint little studio gracious enough to let the crew film free of chargeâheâd given you the whole spiel, in one ear and out the other still wondering how youâve tangled yourself in this web again.
âCan I just ask you one thing?â You inquire, helping him file away some of his clothes in a drawer you had emptied out for him like this was normal. He makes a soft noise of acknowledgment with his lips pursed together, tired sunken eyes staring back at you, âWhy not get your own apartment? A house? I mean, youâve got the money?â
Lucien clears his throat, scratching at his neck where it jostles his chains, fingers slipping under the silk fabric of his shirt, âI, uhâfeel weirdâŠlivingalone,â He rushes out, quickly turning to grab more clothes as you stand, hand placed against the top of your dresser as your brow furrows, feeling like youâd just fallen deaf.
âCome again?â
A small huff as Lucien passes a stack of expensive shirts, material that had to be ethically sourced orâŠsome bullshit like that, heâs told you the story before in passing.
âI donât like living alone, âs why I float,â He offers lamely, tossing the empty duffel into the corner of your roomâyouâd pick it up later, it didnât matter, âI left all my old stuff to my ex-wife, it was easier that way.â
Often you had to remind yourself that Lucien was older, nearing his late forties while you were still managing through your late twenties, a big thirty on the horizon.
It dawns on you then that you donât know much about Lucien at all outside of tabloids and gossip sites, the rumor mills running through Hollywoodâyou often find yourself reminding you of the fact he was still a person, with troubles, clearer now more than ever.
âIt wasnât always like this,â He assures you, âIâm a fuckinâ mess, I already know.â
âI think weâre beyond judgment, Lucien,â You assure him, âYou saw me sobbing and nearly nakedâjust keep this place clean, like you give a shit about it, alright?â
Lucien nods dutifully, âYes, maâam.â
â
You learn quickly that his long term stay meant that little quirks were beginning to surfaceâalways organizing your things out on the sink opposite of his own, a small gesture that didnât go unnoticed when you were rushing out the door on days he wasnât given a call time. Or how he always made sure there was food waiting when he arrived before youâtakeout or not. He wasnât a great cook, but he could manage.
In turn, you tried to cook more often. And he loved to hover, but not with a homey, warm feeling that made you feel safe, rather like a curious dog nipping at your ankles. And more so, he would finish his own plate before looking cautiously at your own before you nod, allowing him to pick from your plate with a greediness that made you giggle under your breath.
âMy ex-wife never cooked,â He had told you once, âI mean, she triedâbut she was terrible. And this,â His tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek as he steps at the homemade ravioli, âis there anything you canât do?â
âSay no, apparently,â You gave him a solid once-over, a look from head to toeâheâs never offended anymore, taking the playful jest in stride, it had already been a month and it was beginning to feel like normal, again, having him there.
Your conflicting schedules meant a lot of time away from each other, which wasnât bad. It almost helped more than you expected and while your apartment wasnât well-fit for a roommate, Lucien made the place feel less empty.
You couldnât say it out loud, but you were starting to understand the charm. You could see beyond the facade and the personaâa troubled man with ambition, purpose, but a mountain of struggles. The drinking wasnât a surprise, nor his uptick in smoking. He always smoked out the window so the smell wouldnât permeate, but the drinking started to becomeâŠan issue.Â
It wasnât that Lucien couldnât handle himself when he drank, but he often did it to fill the dead timeâso he saidâwhen you were still at work, fighting with his own demons in his mind. He always ended up on your bed those nights, curled up in a fetal position at the wrong end and you couldnât find it in yourself to move him, draping a blanket over him before you decided to spend the night on the couch. It was a weekly occurrence after a while, slowly growing in frequency.
He always apologizes, tells you he wonât do it again, but eventually you find yourself melding around him, sleeping in a way that keeps you comfortable and doesnât disturb him. You donât judge him, donât think any lower of himâbut there was concern and Lucien could see it growing with every passing conversation as the weeks dragged along.Â
By the third month, the dam breaks.
You donât sugarcoat anything for him either.
âDo you need rehab?â You ask bluntly, watching him peel the gold-flaked under eye patches from his face, shoulder leaned against the doorframe, âOr, like, therapy?â
âIâm not an alcoholic,â He defends, washing his hands under the warm water, âI can get sober if I wanna, but it helps with the stress, you know?â
âNo,â You respond honestly, but softly, âI donât. Unless this is just some big excuse for you to sleep in my bed, which if it isââ
Lucien chuckles, toweling his hands dry, âYou caught me.â
âYou would tell me if it was getting bad, wouldnât you?â
It seemed like the least he could do, considering how greatly you were carrying the burden for him by allowing him to stay in the comfort of your own home, treating him like a human. You ignored the tabloids anymore, always negative and nefarious toward him, like he wasnât allowed to make a few mistakes along the way. He had to be perfect, given his troubling start in the industry. DUIs, cheating, eventually settling down to marry but that didnât work out great for him eitherâyouâd done some research lately, out of pure curiosity to understand what he wasnât always willing to share, but you preferred to hear it from him.
Lucien squeezes at your chin in a comforting manner that makes you grimace in feigned disgust, forcing a gentle laugh through your nose as he answers, âYes, I would.â
â
When he should, he doesnât.Â
Award season was approaching and work was hectic, Lucien had wrapped on his next project and his previous one was gearing for a big release and line of promos, which meant Lucien had to be on his game.
The lamp in your living was broken, a shattered glass bottle on the floor beside it, a trail of clothes following to your room and a heat in the apartment that was sweltering in a way that had you stripping down immediately to the thinnest layer you could manage without getting to your underwear, jeans and a thin strapped top as you walked barefoot toward your room.
You werenât sure what you were expecting or hoping for, but it isnât this.
Heâs naked, completely bare, save for the blanket draping his groin to save his modesty, out cold but skin obviously clammy, reeking of alcohol and sweat and you canât help scrambling to the floor, unable to form any type of tangible sound. You check for a pulse, fearing that you might have just found yourself in an inescapable scandal, but it was there. That soft thump, thump, thump under your fingertips before you press the back of your hand to his skin and despite the sweat, heâs cold. He must have sweat out most of the alcohol in his system, your eyes dragging to the forgotten bottle on the ground.
You sigh, eyes falling closed as you gather your thoughts. You devise a plan, slow and methodicalâfirst was to clean, grabbing the clothes and broken glass from the ground, leaving no trace of his mayhew before youâre returning to your room and straight for the bathroom, immediately turning on the cold water, the stream forceful as it pushed through the showerhead.
âFuck,â You curse to yourself as you glance at Lucien who is mostly dead-weight, struggling to understand how you can get him from one point to anotherâwith another quiet huff you approach him, shifting until you can get your arms under his armpits and heave him up, blanket falling from his waist as you yelp, eyes shooting toward the ceiling as you continue to drag his slumped body toward the tub, âokayâgod, Lucien, you fucking owe me.â
It takes some maneuvering and the unbelievability that you are so incredibly close to his bare ass and dick in a way that most would fall over backwards for, regardless of the situationâit felt wrong, seeing him in such a manner and so completely helpless, but you shove the thought aside as you finally get him in the tub, the cold water waking him almost immediately.
It starts with a gasp, a sharp tug of the curtain and coarse, âShit,â that assures you he was alive and well, coherent, even. A small smile tugs at your lips as you hear him let out a string of curses before he finally settles.
âThereâs a bottle of water and some Advil on the counterâtake it,â You instruct behind the curtain, âIâm going to grab dinnerâtry not to hurt yourself, please.â
He doesnât acknowledge you, not that you expected it. And it doesnât take long to grab the food either, calling it in and driving there and back in about twenty minutes, finding Lucien freshly showered and sitting on the stool near the counter, eyes telling a story of exhaustion but his insistently bouncing leg telling another.
âChicken or steak?â You ask nonchalantly, holding the styrofoam containers in both hands.
He takes a moment to answer, unsettled by your calmness, â...steak.â
You hand it over without a question, grabbing a couple drinks before youâre digging in, standing opposite of him rather than sitting, eating in a silence that grows, thickens.
âItâs quiet,â You note the obvious before you scroll through your phone, searching for a soft tune to play through your speakers, something to fill the air, âbetterâhowâs the food?â
âI like it,â Lucien responds with a full mouth, somehow endearing as he swallows and sips at the second water you offered him, attempting to help keep him hydrated, even if it was still annoyingly hot in your apartment, ââIâŠI think I broke your AC.â
âYou did. Iâll put in a work order for it to get fixed,â You answer, a solution to the problem, âare you okay?â
If Lucien was being honest with himself, he canât remember the last time anyone has asked him thatânot genuinely, anyways. He falls silently, biting at his bottom lip in deep thought as his eyes squint, poking quietly at his food.
Talking was hard, you understood that. But, you hoped there was some trust built between you in the past few months, that you hadnât laid your vulnerabilities out bare the night you came home rain soaked without the ability for him to share too. Plus, heâd broken your favorite lamp.
âItâs complicated,â Lucien diverts, but that doesnât stop you, eyes lying in wait as you laid your utensil down to listen, ââIâve got two kids. One, heâs eighteenâŠawesome, awesome kid. His name is Raynor. I didnât meet him until a few years back, Iâve been tryinâ take make up for that. We even went on a roadtrip a couple summers back.â
Lucien fiddles with the cap on the water bottle idly, speaking further, âI, the other, my daughter, sheâs a couple years oldâit was a crazy night with a co-star,â You clock the information immediately, knowing who he was talking about without the confession, and he knew tooâit wasnât exactly a well kept secret in Hollywood as Delia was now married, to another co-star, raising that child, âa long story for another time, but weâre going through this nasty court battle.â
It would explain his financial situation a little, his willingness to take roles as he could, but the growing stress on his face as weeks passed, the tendency to hide or ignore the situation rather than face itâyou understood, to a degree.Â
âSo, all the drinking? The transiency?â
âIt just helps,â He shrugsâhelps him forget, temporarily, before it all comes barreling back at him, âshe wants to revoke shared custodyâsheâs got her more anyways, with my work and everything, but she wants to deem me unfit, make itââ Lucienâs throat tightens, exactly why he wanted to avoid this conversation entirely, âshe wants to erase me and the moment the press gets windââ
All hell would break loose.Â
âLucien, I donât think it works that way,â You assure him, even if your knowledge was slim, âthereâsâŠthat's your right, sheâs your child.â
âGiven my history, the judge could consider it,â Lucien replies lackluster, ashamed, âlookâIâm sorry to dump this shit on you, I fucked up your apartment, I can find another place to stay and Iâll pay out the rest of the rent like I promised.â
You look at him with a gentle expression, tilting your head until his eyes finally rise, âI asked,â You remind him, âand I hated that lamp anyways, so you did me a favor,â It was a lie, but given his emotional state it was acceptable, watching as he forced a weak laugh, âIâm not kicking you out either, if the media publishes anything about it, you hunker down here. I can deal with a few paps, you know? We do work in the same industry, after all. I may not understand the full scope but I do understand, Lucien.â
He returns a look with sad, red-rimmed eyes as you reach to clean up your shared dinner, before approaching him with a careful few steps, a hand gliding over his bicep and your fingers rubbing at the small dip in the back of neck, your first real initiation of genuine touch. He was a touchy person himself and seemed at ease by the feeling, your lips coming to press a soft kiss against his cheek. Kind, friendly, you pat at his back.
Something changes between that touch and the look he gives you as he turns, eyes flicking toward your lips out of desire, silently he pushes logic aside and leans forward, pulling your chin into his hand like he has before, a familiar touch followed by a foreign one, plush lips against your own that has you swimming in a mix of emotions, eyes falling shut briefly before you realize what was happening, lips parting slightly as the tip of his tongue touches your own before youâre ripping away, eyes wide.
âOh my god,â You utter out, wishing the words had stayed inside of your head, âI, uhâIâmââ
You stutter relentlessly before youâre scrambling toward your room, door falling shut with a soft click as you sink into your sheets, heart racing uncontrollably and your hands covering your face, unable to face what you had just escaped from as a knock comes a few minutes later on your bedroom door.
You couldnât face him. You couldnât.
Eventually, he leaves. Slow footsteps that eventually lead toward another door that closes too, unsure of where he was wandering off to, but you couldnât think about that, not with the conflicting, battling emotions in your head and chest, a startling yearning coming from just a simple touch.
He was everything you despisedâsomehow finding level ground, adoring him, caring about him, it was never supposed to go this far. He started as an inconvenience, a disruption to your lifeâŠand now, you werenât sure you could imagine it without him there, in some form.
It takes a couple hours, already deep into your slumber, but the dip of weight in your bed startles you for a moment before the movements stop, the strong press of a back against yours, and an unspoken security that pulls you both under quickly.
Heâd gone out drinking again, but at this point, you couldnât blame him.
â
He awakes to a sweet smell, distinct and fresh. And air, cool air. It canât be dawn, the sun is too far in the sky to be early morning. Lucien rises with a heavy grogginess, rubbing at his eyes as he finds his footing and walks toward the living room of your apartment, finding your back turned to him as you fiddled with the buttons on your AC as you bid someone goodbye, a man carrying a toolbox descending toward the hallway.
He gears up for an apology, the words balancing on the tip of his tongue.
Suddenly, youâre in front of him, two filled mugs in hand, coffee just the way he liked.
 And Lucien doesnât know when or why the feeling overtakes him, but he kisses you again. It isnât a simple peck. It was full, all-consuming, feet lifting off the ground type of kiss.
No, literallyâyou rise to your tiptoes as the cups jostle in your grip as two large, warm hands curl around your back and his lips melt against your own, earning a starling gasp that slips through slightly parted lips, followed by his name after a moment too long.
âCoffee, coffee,â You mumbled quickly, âhotâburning, my toes,â Lucien pulled away quickly at the words, watching as the tan liquid pooled at your feet before he rushed to clean up the mess.
You watch with an amused expression before you finally hand the cup of coffee over, âGood morning to you too, I guess,â You smirk, biting down on your cheek to stifle the laugh that was fighting itâs way out, âplease donât tell me youâre still drunk.â
âI need to apologize,â Lucien tells you, â...againâIâmâIâm sorry for kissing youâagain, like that, assuming that was something you wanted. I got pulled into the momentââ
Youâve had all night and morning to think it over, mulling over the emotions and feelings, still not quite sure, but you couldnât help the swirling feeling of nervousness that had grown more frequent in Lucienâs presence, his looks, his flirtatious nature and touches. You were under his spell completely.
And if you didnât want to kiss him, you would have stopped him.
Besides, you didnât want to be the bearer of more bad news after his terrible night, having been let go from your job position that morning, no noticeâyou were still reeling, but didnât want to burden Lucien with the news.
You needed something else to occupy your mind.
âDrink,â You instruct, taking a seat on the couch as you sip at your coffee in silence, watching as Lucien mirrored your actions and sat at the opposite end, legs out-stretched and his chest on display, tanned skin with neatly trimmed chest hair, soft tummy leading into the charcoaled, stretchy lounge pants leaving little to imagination as he fidgeted in his seat.
âWhereâd you go last night?â
Lucienâs face immediately flushes with guilt, âTheâa bar. I didnât drink. I swear, Iââ
He makes a small noise of frustration and closes his eyes, âI did something stupid, I needed a distraction, alright? I shouldnât have kissed you, thatâs not what you wanted, I know that.â
With a silent reservation, you press the coffee cup into the table in front of you before slowly make your way toward him on your knees before you pluck the half-empty mug from his grip and return it to a similar spot, feeling a surge of bravery as you climb onto his lapâthereâs some underlying stupidity there, you think. But, fuck it.
âYou donât know what I want,â You assure him, fingers dragging along the top of his head before youâre tugging at the stands to tilt his head back, kissing him soundly, sweet dark roast on your shared breaths as you lick into his mouth, the opposite hand pressed flat against his bare chest. It takes a while, but eventually his brain catches up, along with his movements, and his hands curl around your bare thighs, fingertips grazing the silk shorts you wore to bed the night prior, like butter against your soft skin as his fingers climb and dig, pressing into your skin as you continue to discover every inch of him he had to offerâmouth, tongue, neck, chest.
It was a dormant hunger that had awoken after careful thought and pure primal need, tired of waiting things out for perfection when you had something tangible in front of you.
Heâs mumbling your name softly as you lean into him, the bottom of your lip dragging against the tip of his nose as he pulls you away, strong hands encompassing your face as he looks at you, searching your glazed over eyes, âWhat are you doing?â He asks, apparent concern.
âDistracting you,â You tell him, immediately diving back in to kiss him, nipping at his chin playfully, a shaking sigh falling from his lips, âare you distracted?â
He chuckles weakly, âWhat happened to me being a cocky, egotistical, little dicked man?â
âI can go back to hating you if you want,â You respond, nipping at his ear before you pull back to look at him, so close you can feel his breath against your lips, âIf youâre into that sorta thing.â
He could see in your eyes that you needed this too, a way to shut your brain off for a while, months of failed dates youâve told him all about, in detail, he canât help but chuckle at your eagerness, stifling a groan as you core grinds against him, cock stiffening with the movement.
âMaybe,â Heâs undecided, âweâll see how this goes.â
You smile wide, feeling a surge of pride as he returns the kiss more fully, a hand twisting around the back of your neck as he kisses you fully, all wet and uncoordinated but it makes your heart flutter in excitement.
âLet me taste you,â He begs, clawing at your top in an attempt to get his hands on your skin, pushing up the fabric as you follow his movements, top off, stripping your shorts down along with your underwear, an eager Lucien gripping at your hips to maneuver you down into the cushion as he hastily shoves the table away with his feet to make room for him on the floor, no reprieve as he hooks your legs over his shoulder and splits his tongue through your folds, licking up the center.
A man of his word, he tastes. Noisily he licks and prods, tongue dipping inside of along with wandering fingers, sucking gently at your clit until youâre yanking at his hair, hand curling over the back of his scalp, fingernails digging into the top of his back, moans spilling from your lips like a flowing river, the rapids rushing through, walls clenching around nothing but cool air as Lucien parts from you, admires.Â
Heâs got two hands on your thighs to keep you open, âWider,â He coaxes, your breath quickening as he squeezes at your thighs, âright there, donât move.â
He shoves his pants down his hips, the heel of his palm rubbing down his shaft as he wraps his fingers around his cock, jerking himself off at the sight of you, glistening and eager, your fingers digging into the cushion fabricâyouâve seen him before, naked, in starkly different context.Â
But, he had nothing to be ashamed of, your eyes counting the faint splattering of freckles on his chest as his hand glides over his cock, tugs, thumb sliding over the tip to spread the precum down his shaft and you donât hear him calling your name until his hand touches your skin, gliding over your knee as he taps, coming to with a weak, âHuh?â
Lucien laughs under his breath before heâs beckoning you closer, pushing up with your palms as he cups his hand under your chin and asksâno, demands, âSpit,â He tells you, following his order without missing a beat, the saliva dripping into his hands as you push it past your lips and he moves closer, knees settled on the plush rug in your living room, guiding you until your ass was nearly hanging off the couch and using your saliva to aid the tug of his cock.
âNo condom,â You quickly interject, slightly out of breath. His mouth opens like he wants to respond but you quickly shush him, âwe can avoid the spiel, Iâm on the pill.â
Lucien shrugs with a cocked smile, âJust checking. You alright?â
You nod eagerly, dying for a reason to shut your mind off.
It was the perfect angle, his hips just level enough with your hips that he slid in with ease, adding his own string of spit into the mix as rubbed it down your cunt and pushed his cock insideâdeeper, deeper, the head of his cock sliding against your folds teasingly as he rocks his hips until heâs fully flush inside of you.
Your anxious hands are taken hold by him, curling around his wrists instinctively before theyâre being shoved over your head and against the back of the couch, his towering frame leaning over you as his hips piston you at a bruising pace, deep enough that it aches. Itâs been long, so long and you feel pathetic for already wanting it so bad, core pulsating with an insatiable need.
His breath is hot, wet against your skin as his teeth graze against your breast, sucking the skin between his teeth as you gasp, âLouder,â Lucien coaxes, âlet âem hear you. Think they deserve it after all theyâve put us through.â
You laugh at that, full-body and airy, eyes falling shut as Lucien plants a foot against the floor, changing up the angle to an intense degree, his cock slipping out briefly as he adjusts, catching glimpse of the string of shiny slick that connects you both before the thick head of his cock pushes back in, a soft squelch of admittance, a tell-tale sign of your obvious enjoyment.
If he knew this would shut you up, he wouldâve tried seducing you months agoâthough, he had a feeling the attempts would be futile, he was floating on his own cloud of disbelief that after all his wrong-doings, his missteps, it hadnât pushed you away.
âShow meâhuh, show me what you like,â Lucien pleads through baited breath, hair sticking to his forehead from the sheen of sweat, his own hands leaving yours with the silent promise that you wouldnât move them, finding purchase underneath your thighs and pushing them up toward your chest, your fingers gripping around the back of the couch in desperation, âtouchâtouch yourself, show me.â
The drag of your hand is slow, but eventually your fingers hover over your cunt, pressing against your sensitive clit as you circle, slow and intentional movement that rips a loud moan from your chest matched with his pointed thrusts, feeling his stamina weaning as he watches, hips stuttering.
âYouâre a fucking dream,â Lucien admires, âmakinâ a damn mess, too. You hear that?â
He slows down on purpose, partially for his own benefit but heâs proving his point, that sticky squelch of arousal, his faint grunts mixed with your quickly rising moans.
âDoes it make you nervous when I stare?â He asks curiously, eyes locked on your pussy, watching his cock split you open, gripping him and pulling him back in eagerly with every thrust, âLook at meâanswer me, baby.â
Thereâs something so distinct in the way he says it, laced with an addictive drug.
Your eyes peel open, bleary behind near tears and you shake your head.
âDo you wish it did?â You counter, earning a subtle head shake from Lucien as he pulls out.
A moan of disappointment leaves your mouth before heâs quickly jostling your around, chest against the couch, his hand spreading wide over your back as he bends you over, fisting his cock as he feeds it back into your greedy cunt, the swollen head making you gasp as it pushes through your over-sensitive folds.
He uses the leverage as his hand climbs, gripping at your shoulder to pull you up, bracketing your body into the couch with a knee at your side, pressing you tight into his chest, his hand sliding around to your chin and turning your face to his, lips parting as he fucks you with a newfound ferocity, eyes rolling back so deep you arenât expecting the fingers that find your clit, circling the senstive nerves until youâre tipping over the edge, soft encouraging words pulling you through your orgasm like a gentle wave, his fingers slowing down as you resurface.
He comes soon after, his hips stuttering out of pace again as you lean forward, feeling him pull out at the last possible moment before heâs painting thick strips of come against your lower back, the fingers of his left hand digging into your skin as he grabs you tight, the tip of his cock sliding against your ass.
You collapse with a content laugh, oblivious to Lucien searching frantically for something to clean you up before settling on one of the kitchen towels, your body slumped lazily against the couch and sighing when you feel his warm touch, the words slipping out on their own accord, âI got fired.â
âWhat?â
He tosses the dirty towel aside and passes over your clothes, pulling his own lounge pants back up his hips, sans underwearâand it makes you curious how often he does that normally, comfortable as he takes a seat, legs spread wide as he settles into the cushion.
âThey called this morning,â You explain easily, pulling your top over your head and maneuvering your panties and shorts back on, âwouldnât give me a reason, but it doesnât matter.â
Lucienâs brow furrows in thought, rubbing his thumb against his fingertips out of habit.
âIs this one of those situations where youâre gonna ask if Iâll sign an NDA?â You half-joke.
He shakes his head almost immediately. He doesnât seem to find it amusing, almost slightly concernedâor wounded?
âCome work for me,â He insists, âIâve been needing an assistant.â
âIsnât that a conflict of interest?â You ask him, staring at his flush chest and mused hair, evidence of rigorous sex all over his face, it was almost enough to have you confessing some unspoken feelings, but you werenât that easily broken down.
âIt doesnât have to be.â
âAre you just trying to find a reason to stick around longer?â You tease him, a smile peeking out behind your tired expression, âBecause it wonât work.â
âNoâIâm serious about getting my shit together,â Lucien promises, âI might need a little helpâŠbut I want to.â
âCan I think about it?âÂ
Lucien nods, hands dropping to his lap as he fiddles with a ring on his finger, eventually trailing toward the chains around his neck before his head is popping up, a quizzical look on his face.
âWaitâwas that because you were having a bad morning?â
The sex, he means.
A smile breaks out on your face, âNothing an orgasm wonât fix.â
He can sense it isnât the full truth, but he doesnât pry.
âDamn straight,â He chuckles, both of you falling into a comfortable silence.
â
Your answer doesnât come for a solid week, thinking over the pros and cons. It was complicated, indeed bound to be messy if you allowed it, but Lucien was promising to double your pay, no undermining, no hoveringâit seemed too good to be true.
But, you were taking the risk.
Lucien was still awaiting the imminent release of the court documents, the storm of press, but when you were secured in the safety of your apartment, hidden under the blankets as Lucien clung to you, head buried in your chest and his cock still buried inside of you, a slow and lazy day was what he needed, but he also craved youâand he was addicting, impossible to deny.
âWe canât keep doing this when I start working for you,â You remind him.
âWho says we canât?â Lucien asks curiously, adjusting his hips as he slides deep inside of your cunt, peering up at you with soft eyes, âWe keep it casual, if we decide we wanna stop. We stop. It wonât affect your job. Iâm not that much of a dick, baby.â
âWell, for starters, you canât call me baby at work.â
Lucien nods dutifully, listening to you divulge into a long lists of hardset rules, eventually pulling your focus back to him, his hips moving at a slow but gradual pace until you canât focus any longer, giggling loudly as he buries his face into your neck, a sufficient end to the conversation.
The rest could be figured out later.
-
dividers: @/saradika-graphics
#lucien flores#lucien de leon#lucien flores x reader#lucien flores x you#lucien de leon x reader#lucien de leon x you#lucien flores smut#the uninvited#the uninvited fic#lucien de leon smut#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal#my writing
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Haitani Rindou, Me and My Girlfriend Tokyo Revengers' Ending Special
Your birthday is cold. The wind is big and your jacket is not doing its job good enough. Orangey leaves fall from the trees and they land on your heads. Sweet potatoes have never tasted so sweet before, but he thinks your smile is sweeter.
Tokyo has been getting pretty cold these days, but Rindou is always warm.
"It's soooo cold." You hide your face into his much thicker jacket and mewl like a sweet little kitten seeking for warmth. He reels your body in closer to wrap his arms around your figure, tight. "Told'cha to wear the other jacket." He sways you both around lightly. Your paper bag from Chrome Hearts is heavy and he grabs it off your fingers.
"But I wanted to wear this one for today. You got it for me." You sneak a peek from his chest to look at his face. He rolls his eyes in faux annoyance as you smile cheekily.
Draken is not happy with what he's seeing.
"What the hell? Did this guy just skip the gang meeting to date? That's some lame shit." He clicks his tongue, irritated. A thick vein bulges from his forehead and he starts stomping towards you both, who're standing under a tree all cuddled up together and so, so cozy äž it's such an eye-sore.
Emma stops him before he can get any closer. "Oh, leave them alone, would you? Let them date in peace. Haitani Ran attended the meeting anyway!" She scolds, hands on her hips. Senju drags along Hinata with sparkly eyes and a wide-open mouth. "Ehhh? She's so pretty! They look so good together."
"Hah? Ya tellin' me four eyes' got a girlfriend?!" Hakkai's strikingly blue eyes almost falls out of his sockets as he witness the scene before him: you're stepping on your tippy toes to place a smooch on Rindou's cheek sweetly, and he's actually smiling like a damn fool. Sanzu only snarls äž a common reaction for a guy who's just broken up with his girlfriend, while Hanma is busy smirking as he lights up a cigarette. "He's got some balls showing up here all lovey-dovey." ...He'd just broken up with his girlfriend, too.
Mitsuya snickers, "they've been together for a very long time already, I'm surprised you lot just found out about this," while Souya and Nahoya seem normal about it. "Do you guys not follow his SoundCloud? He makes a lot of songs for her. He shared his link with us willingly, too."
Chifuyu pitches in. "Last week they visited the pet shop to get some cat supplies, and he pretended not to know me with his nose up high, but he made me give him a staff discount while she was busy playing with Peke J. Evil person, I say." Baji smacks the back of his head, "that's just you, dude. He said hi to me and Kazutora." The said man raises his hand as a confirmation.
Inui's face does not change. "Draken wasn't around so he doesn't know, but they both came by D&D the other day to make me check on his car. We don't fix cars, bruh, but he still left with his engine problem solved. No idea how, 'cause I didn't do shit. Goofy guy."
Kokonoi sighs. "It's been ages since they've been doing this, guys. Has no one ever realised the freaking hickeys on his neck? He's fuckin' cocky 'bout 'em too."
But as always, Draken is quick to get pissed off even with reason. He scoffs, "So what? We meet up just once a week to talk about the gang. Is it so hard to show up for just two hours every Sunday?"
...Mikey is always faster. He's already looming over you both (in his head he is) while the others are still busy busting their heads over you two.
"You." His voice is flat and his eyes are squinted, very annoyed. He looks like a grumpy child pissed that he didn't get a souvenir from his classmate. It doesn't help that he is much shorter than your boyfriend as well.
"What the hell are you doing here? If you wanna skip a meeting at least don't show up at our venue to show off. Are you asking for a beating?"
You poke your head out from his jacket just enough to take a quick look at Mikey who is standing behind you both, arms crossed while tapping his feet on the ground. Rindou turns his head and eyes the growing crowd who're slowly circling around you both.
Shion and Izana shrug simultaneously with their hands in the air when Rindou glares at them. 'We didn't say shit,' but his best friend mouths to him anyway, 'dumbass'. And for once, Kakucho is laughing.
From the corner of his eyes he can see Ran slowly approach you both, left behind by the crowd while sucking on a popsicle at this weather like the maniac he is. He quickly stands properly to fix on your clothing gently without letting you go from the confines of his jacket äž to keep you warm like the loving boyfriend he is or to keep your face hidden like the petty boyfriend he is, you're not too sure.
He faces the crowd with you hiding behind his back, eyes wide as you listen.
"It's my girl's birthday today." He simply mutters, loud enough for the crowd to hear. No attitude, no eye roll äž just five words, plain and simple.
"Huh?" The steam rising off of Mikey's head vanishes like a fire being put off by water, and Draken's expression significantly drops. He immediately coughs into his fist and bows a little when he sees you looking at him, pretty eyes folded into thin crescents as you pat on your boyfriend's back a little, whispering into his ear to ease up.
"What? I can't take you out to shop on your birthday now?" He says it to you with the expression of a sad little mistreated puppy and you try your best to shut him up while laughing. "Yes, yes you can. Now quiet, be nice to them." You say between giggles.
"Sorry. Happy birthday." Mikey immediately apologises, dazed. You snicker against Rindou's back and try your hardest to nod as a courtesy with your face half-hidden.
He still has something to say, though äž like the big boy who doesn't like being misunderstood that he is äž despite your best efforts on making him play nice and not be rude to his friends.
"I didn't come all the way here to show off, baka. We're waiting for this guy to celebrate together." He explains, one finger pointing to his nonchalant brother, as you both meet with Ran under the lamppost.
"And, dating isn't lame. Still being single is." His gaze switches to Emma who is playing with the buttons of her cardigan silently behind Draken, with a teasing smirk on his face.
"Asshole-"
"Bye. Don't follow us." He mocks the way Draken's mouth moves with a grin and you hit his arm while lightly bowing to the others as a goodbye.
"She looks so familiar." Takemichi whispers as he watch the three of you take off, and Hinata hums for him to continue. "I feel like I've seen her before."
Mikey looks at him with a soft smile on his face, as he takes a glance back at the rest who are still discussing about you two. They're all loud and boisterous, but they're having fun, and they're alive.
And suddenly the wires connect in his head.
Yeah, that's right. In the timeline before this, the timeline before that, and in all the timelines he's met with the Haitani Brothers, he's seen you too. You and Rindou side by side, and you're always together with Ran. You and him were never together before this because of your disapproval on their dangerous gang activities, but you are together now, in this timeline, where Ran and Rindou aren't just juvie kids and they're no longer cold-blooded murderers.
Mikey knows that too.
"Finally a happy timeline, right, Takemicchi?"
i'm extremely late to this but happy 2 years since tr ended and also not much tags cus idk what this is honestly. just read for fun LOL :p
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a/n: happy no shave/no nut november! an anon had asked about this challenge for william and i couldnât resist. đ thanks to the anons that helped out on deciding on the prize! enjoy and get ready for so much more fic fun to come!
word count: 4.8k
tw: so much smut, dirty talk, masturbation (f and m) but not finishing, fingering (f recieving), nipple play, use of toys, creampie, edging, honestly itâs a no nut november fic so itâs just porn without plot (let me know if i missed anything)
summary: between william taking part in no shave november and no nut november, you think youâre going to go crazy. who knew the month could feel so long?
âI hate November.â
Your whine is obnoxious even to your own ears, childish and petulant. You kick a foot out on the mattress for good measure and William laughs.
âĂlskling,â he coos, coming over to the bed and wrapping a hand around your ankle. He tugs gently and you slide easily down the mattress towards him. âYou didnât have to agree to the bet.â
âYes I did,â you grumble, kicking your other foot at him. He catches it easily in his free hand and then suddenly, youâre trapped, both of your legs held in the air before William pulls you forward again and has you wrap your thighs around his hips. His hands are warm on your skin, calloused fingers stroking gentle, lazy circles. Youâre fully aware that, with your legs spread like this, he could easily get his hands on your cunt and can probably feel the heat radiating from between your legs.
Your clit gives a painful throb, untouched and desperate for him.
Nearly three weeks without sex and youâve never been hornier in your entire life.
It hadnât been bad at first, and then youâd been on your period and the thought of being touched at all was repulsive. But now youâre rapidly hurtling towards ovulation week and itâs nearly impossible to be in the same room as William without wanting to jump him.
Williamâs keeping his lips zipped, but the second you find out which one of his godforsaken teammates decided a No Nut November bet was a good idea, youâre killing them.
Of course, youâre partially to blame since youâd laughed at William and told him âhow hard can it be? To not have sex for a month.â So heâd made a bet with you, challenging you to take part and not come for the whole month and do the challenge with him. Youâd agreed, not really deciding on what the winner gets since youâd figured that you would be able to outlast your boyfriend and would just make him do whatever you wanted anyway. Maybe youâll make him do all the laundry for a month.
What youâd conveniently forgotten was that No Nut November coincided with No Shave November and Williamâs rocking a moustache that shouldnât turn you on as much as it does.
âYou did this to yourself,â William laughs, torturing you by running his palms up the inside of your thighs and stopping inches from where you need him the most. âYou can stop any time.â
He knows you canât, knows youâre stubborn as hell.
You scowl at him, completely disagreeable with the lack of orgasms. Your whole body feels tight and like a live wire. Any touch might be enough to send you over the edge.
Frustratingly, William doesnât seem to be as bothered as you are. Sure, heâs been walking around with some aggressive erections, his thick cock prominent against the front of his pants when heâs home with you. But heâs been like a maniac on the ice, racking up goals and assists at a pace that rocketed him to the top of teamâs point sheet.
âI donât know how this isnât frustrating you,â you mutter, kicking your heel lazily against the top of his ass. Youâre satisfied to see the shape of his cock press against his jeans, thickening slowly. âShouldnât you be all cranky and blue balled?â
âTrust me, Ă€lskling,â William grumbles, âmy balls are plenty blue. But I get my frustration out on the ice. If Iâm scoring a goal or whatever, Iâm not thinking about how fucking horny I am or how badly I want to fuck you into the mattress.â
You let out a little squeak and your legs instinctively try to close, blocked by Williamâs bulk. He grins wickedly when your thighs flex and you nearly cry when his hand snakes up and his fingers press against your core, plastering the fabric of your panties against your wet cunt. You wiggle, trying to get away from him, but all it does is make your clit pulse and arousal drip more steadily down the seam of your ass.
âWilliammmmm,â you whine, kicking at his back and reaching to pull his hand away. Your grip on his wrist falters when his fingers press down harder, a gasp punching from your lungs.
âYouâre so wet, huh, my girl?â He murmurs, dick twitching in his pants. His gaze is locked on you, watching as a wet spot forms on the fabric, soaked through your panties and onto your shorts. âIf you asked nicely, I could make you come right now. Just a few presses of my fingers against your little clit and youâd feel better.â
It sounds so nice, relief from the achy fire thatâs consumed your body for three weeks. Getting rid of the lust fog in your brain too would be helpful. And heâs right, a quick twitch of his fingers against your clit and youâd probably be a goner. But then youâd also be a loser, and you refuse to be a loser.
âNo, no, Iâm fine,â you manage to choke out, breathless. Your hips move on their own accord and you know you need to get him away from you soon or youâre definitely going to lose.
âYou sure?â He laughs, stoking you lightly.
You nod, biting hard on your tongue. Williamâs lips are curled up in a wicked smile that immediately turns into a frown and a grunt when you shift your leg and angle your knee so you can press the heel of your foot against the hard bulge in his pants. He grunts again when you press down, smiling sweetly at him.
Shoeâs on the other foot now.
âI could take care of that little problem youâre having,â you murmur, getting relief when he finally moves his hand off your cunt to grab your ankle again and pull it away from his dick. He lets you rest the sole of your foot against his stomach and moves his other hand to block access to his dick.
âYou know my problem isnât little,â he retorts, pinching the top of your foot and making your toes twitch against his shirt. âIf anything, itâs getting bigger by the day. Youâre going to have a massive load to take when this is over.â
You whine and wriggle on the bed, your core clenching desperately around nothing. âStop, youâre playing dirty,â you complain. âItâs not fair when you do all the dirty talk looking like that.â You wave your hand in the vague direction of his face.
âOh yeah, âcause you walking around in that skimpy ass towel for an hour after you got out of the shower two nights ago was all above board and clean play,â William drawls, rolling his eyes. He doesnât seem to realize that his hand is working absently over the fly of his pants, his gaze flickering between your legs and back to your face.
âYeah,â you shoot back, yanking your ankle away from his grip and rolling away from him, âbecause Iâm just a girl and I canât be held accountable for my actions.â
You get to your feet, still half draped over the mattress, and wince at the uncomfortably wet feeling between your legs. A cold shower and change of clothes will do wonders for your mood.
William rolls his eyes at you, his hand still moving over his cock, and youâre tempted to let him continue so you can win. But one of the dogs barks out in the living room and William turns to the door, hand falling away from his pants.
âSaved by the dogs,â you mutter, grabbing a pair of jeans out of your drawer to change. Itâs time for their pre-game walk and you need the fresh air to cool off.
The walk works to tamp down the worst of your arousal and you manage to make it through the game easily enough. Although every time William throws his body against an opponent, you find your face getting warm and your belly flipping. Damn him.
It doesnât get easier when youâre tucked together in bed after the game, watching TV to unwind instead of your usual post-game routine of fucking until one or both of you passes out. You miss that routine.
âAh, fuck, stop that,â William grunts, pushing at your hip to put a little space between your ass and his cock. You wiggle, annoyed that he dislodged his half-hard cock from where it was resting in the seam between your ass cheeks.
âI was comfy,â you whine, rolling over onto your stomach. You tilt your head and look at William with wide, pleading eyes and subtly arch your back a little so your ass lifts in the air.
William swats at your ass gently, a bolt of lust shooting right to your clit. âYeah, too comfy. Youâre playing dirty, Ă€lskling,â he says with a good-natured smile. The smile twitches his moustache and you sigh, unable to look away from it. All you can imagine is how it would feel between your legs.
You fold your hands under your cheek and lift your leg to drape your thigh over Williamâs hip. He lets his hand drag up and down your thigh, keeping his touch chaste even as you can see his cock harden in his boxers, tenting and warping the shape of the plaid fabric.
âWhat if,â you mumble, âwe call a draw. We both finish at the same time?â
The perpetual state of horny is starting to make you feel crazy. That coupled with the wave of exhaustion thatâs hitting now that itâs the end of the week, youâre ready to jump William and be done with this stupid challenge.
âSay the word,â Williamâs jaw clicks as he stifles a yawn. It might be insulting that heâs yawning if he hadnât played a team high time of twenty two minutes on ice and scored two goals. âIâll make you come in a second.â
âUgh, no,â you grumble, pressing your face into your pillow. âI want to win fair and square.â
Williamâs blunt nails scrape against your skin and he drags your thigh higher up on his hip, opening you up to him. âYouâre so competitive, Ă€lskling,â he mumbles. ââS what I love about you.â
His words settle warmly in your stomach and you reach a hand out to hook your fingers in the thick chain around his neck, pulling him closer so you can kiss him softly. His moustache scratches at your upper lip and you trace your tongue over his, deepening the kiss even though you know itâs going to drive you both crazy. Williamâs hand tightens on your thigh, fingers pressing into your skin hard enough to bruise, and youâre both breathless when you break the kiss.
âWhen you lose, I want my reward to be sitting on your face,â you mutter, huffing a faint laugh out of your nose. William pinches your thigh and you swat at his hand.
âFuckinâ tease,â he says, tone full of frustrated affection. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead and drags you closer, wrapping his arms around your back to keep you in place. You wonât fall asleep like this, but itâs always nice to be tucked up close to William, with his heartbeat thumping steadily under your cheek and his fingers tracing nonsense patterns on your skin.
Williamâs gone early the next morning, with a kiss to your lips and a light spank to your ass, off on a road trip thatâll keep him away from you for nearly a week. Heâll be home again on the twenty-sixth, with just four days left in the month. The temptation is mostly gone with him, your libido getting a reprieve when you arenât able to look at his face every day and imagine it between your thighs.
He does his best to tempt you, sending voice memos and photos that have your hands drifting below the waist band of your pajama bottoms when youâre in bed, like a horny teenage boy desperate to jack off. You honestly hadnât realize that you could even be this horny, your previous boyfriends never inspiring this kind of lust or arousal.
Of course, you give just as good as you get, replying to his messages with pictures of your own featuring new lingerie sets in the royal blue of the Leafsâ jersey. Youâre particularly proud of one picture that gets William calling you immediately to complain about playing dirty. You can hear the schlicking sound of his hand choking his cock through the phone and you click your tongue.
âI hope youâre not going to come before the end of the month,â you sing-song. âI thought you had better willpower than that?â
âĂlskling,â he groans, a strangled noise, âIâm just about ready to end this shit and fuck you until you scream. My dick is so fucking hard, itâs goddamn painful.â
âForfeit and Iâll take care of you when you get home tomorrow,â you offer, stomach flipping when you hear his handâs continued movement. William grunts directly in your ear and the noise shoots straight to your clit, making it swell and throb.
His familiar chuckle draws you back to the conversation, âno way. Thereâs only five days left in the month. Iâm not quitting now, Iâll just take another cold as fuck shower.â
You grumble, annoyed that he refuses to forfeit and impressed by his willpower. November thirtieth is going to be a night for the books.
Itâs a bad idea, you know, tempting fate and all that with William expected home in a few hours. If he catches you, if you go slightly too far, youâll lose the challenge and William will know that you were too horny for your better angels to prevail.
But you miss the feeling of his cock wedged tight in your cunt, filling and stretching you to your limits.
Besides, knowing that itâs risky and you have to keep yourself just at the edge of the orgasm is making your heart beat fast in your chest and your cunt get slick.
Youâre comfortable on the bed in nothing but one of Williamâs t-shirts, the faint remnants of his cologne infused in the fabric. With one leg bent and your foot planted on the mattress, you circle your clit with two fingers, relaxing back against the pillows. Itâs light pressure, but enough to get the bundle of nerves swollen and wet. Arousal drips from your entrance and you know thereâs going to be a puddle under your ass even if you donât finish, but you spread your legs a little more and cool air hits your flushed skin.
All of your nerve endings are on fire and you havenât even started with your toy. Itâs shorter and narrower than William, but itâll do the job in a pinch. When heâs away, you use it more often, no reason to use it when you have the real thing. But youâre at the end of your rope and need the feeling of something filling you, even if itâs just silicone.
Itâs just a little plastic cockwarming, you rationalize. Youâre not actually going to come, just edge yourself into insanity since youâre already half feral with arousal.
The first press of the toy against your entrance takes your breath away and you work your hips a little frantically over the silicone, soaked and panting with each little push. Your clit twitches and throbs, walls fluttering around the toy as you settle it in place with a final nudge.
âFuck,â you whine, breathless and trying not to clench around the length of silicone. You close your eyes and focus on your breathing, imagining itâs Williamâs hot, throbbing cock nestled inside of you, imagining that youâre keeping him warm in a reward for your delayed orgasm. Just the feeling of being stretched out is better than you thought it would be, after so long with nothing to satisfy you.
You whine his name involuntarily, carefully fucking yourself with the toy to make sure you donât get too close to the edge. Your stomach muscles clench and your fingers brush against your clit, sending shockwaves of electricity throughout your body. When itâs too much, you stop, leaving the toy half in your cunt, arousal dripping down the curve of your ass.
The sound of your heavy breathing is filling the room and youâve got an arm thrown over your face, heat radiating off your body. Your hair feels damp from sweat and you havenât even gotten to come. It was a mistake, to edge yourself so much because now youâre feeling even more twitchy, frustrated with the pit of your stomach in knots from holding yourself back.
Your legs feel limp, too heavy to get up and you close your eyes. Thereâs still a couple of hours before William is home and you need to bring yourself back to a baseline so you focus on your breathing, twitching around the silicone half buried in your cunt.
A warm chuckle rouses you, working its way through the fog of sleep cloaking your brain. You hum and stretch, dislodging the toy from between your legs slightly, a spark of electricity racing through your veins.
âWilliam?â You mumble sleepily, cracking one eye open.
The shape of him is fuzzy around the edges, but you catch the upturn in his cheeks that means heâs smiling at you and the way his arms are crossed over his bare chest. You blink again and he comes more into focus, the grey sweats hanging low and loose on his hips, the hair on his chest fluffed in the way you know means he ran his hands over it roughly after his shower.
âSleeping Beautyâs been naughty, huh?â He chuckles and you wrinkle your nose at him, still half asleep until he leans one knee on the mattress and reaches his hand out to nudge his knuckles against the base of the silicone dick thatâs half buried in your cunt.
Youâd nearly forgotten about it and yelp when it shifts an inch or two further inside of you and try to snap your legs shut. Williamâs reflexes are faster and his other hand grabs at your knee, holding your legs wide open. His grin is positively filthy as he takes in the mess between your legs.
âI didnât come,â you inform him primly, fisting one hand in the duvet cover.
âOh yeah?â William clicks his tongue. âJust sat here like a good girl and edged yourself?â
Itâs clear from his tone that he doesnât believe you and really, why should he? Especially when you have the evidence between your legs and drying smears of arousal on your inner thighs.
âMhm,â you hum, wriggling away. Williamâs grip is tight on you, his fingers dancing around the base of the toy, twisting it ever so slightly. You hiccup a gasp.
âSeems like a silly way to lose the bet,â his voice is low, raspy. Deft fingers continue to twist the toy inside of you, making your clit swell and your stomach clench. âComing on a plastic cock instead of mine. But, if thatâs how you want to loseâŠâ
He trails off and pushes the remaining few inches inside of you, punching a gasp from your lungs and making your back arch off the bed. You shout and scratch at his forearms, shaking your head. âNo, no,â you murmur. âWanâ your cock, William!â
Itâs torture, the way he slowly fucks the toy in and out of you, your walls clenching and arousal dripping down the curve of your ass. Your breathing is heavy, chest rising and falling as you get closer and closer to the edge. William murmurs filth to you, leaning over your body. His cock is thick and hard behind his sweats, and you can feel it twitch where itâs pressed against your thigh.
âBeautiful, my beautiful, dirty girl,â he coos, using his free hand to push the fabric of your stolen shirt up your stomach until itâs bunched up under your chin and your breasts are free for him to play with. He leans down and alternates sucking each nipple into his mouth, his moustache scraping against your skin and his tongue circling each nipple until theyâre tight and painful.
âPlease,â you whimper, bending your leg and opening yourself wider for him. âIâm done, I quit.â
You canât stand it any more, the lack of orgasms is making you crazy. Itâs not worth winning. Not with Williamâs dirty mouth running in your ear and his cock hard against your thigh.
âMutual,â he grumbles, shoving his sweats down with one hand and you gasp, nearly relieved, when you feel the velvety soft skin of his shaft against your thigh. The wet head of his cock slicks against your hip and you arch into him. âStupid challenge anyway.â
In one quick motion, William yanks the silicone toy from your cunt and replaces it with his cock, your indignant whine morphing quickly into a wanton moan. He fills you to the brim, balls slapping against your ass and clit rubbing against the coarse hair at the base of his dick.
âOh my god,â you gasp, lifting your knees to his sides and meeting him thrust for thrust. Itâs not going to take long for either of you to come like this, spiky hot pleasure already building low in your stomach.
âFuck, fuck I love this pussy,â William growls, burying his face in the valley between your breasts. The scrape of his moustache and stubble are going to leave makes all over your skin, but you canât wait. âSo goddamn tight and wet, squeezing my cock. Fuck, Ă€lskling, so fucking good. Gonna fill you up, gonna make you feel so good.â
Youâre not even sure if youâre saying actual words around the noises youâre making as the head of Williamâs cock batters your g-spot, thickening and swelling inside the tight grip of your cunt. You wail when he presses his thumb against your sore, swollen clit and kick a foot against his back, making him grunt.
He latches his lips around one of your nipples, tonguing at it until itâs stiff and puffy. You arch your back, pressing up into his mouth and the coil of pleasure tightens in your stomach.
âPlease, please, oh my god, please William,â you chant, scratching at his back and moaning when his hand splays over your stomach and presses down, the pressure making you see stars behind your eyelids.
âGonna come, Ă€lskling, almost there,â he mumbles, adjusting his angle to hit even deeper inside of you. âGonna come together, yeah? Me and you, right now, go ahead. Come on, prinsessa, come all over my cock.â
William rubs circles around your clit and you can feel his cock twitch and thicken, bumping up against your g-spot to finally send you over the edge. Your stomach clenches and starbursts dance behind your eyes as the force of your orgasm hits. Above you, William groans and his hips stutter, coming at the same time you do. He fills you, his hips pumping and his fingers working at your clit so youâre both shaking and panting heavily. Beads of sweat roll down his temples and you can feel the sheen of sweat all over your skin.
Your legs tremble with the aftershocks of your orgasm and William finally finishes emptying inside of you, more than he ever has before and putting your IUD to work.
He collapses on top of you, forcing the last little bit of air left in your lungs out in a harsh exhale. You huff a laugh, running your fingertips over the sweaty, muscled planes of his back, enjoying it when he laughs as you tickle at the spaces between his ribs.
Your legs are locked around his back, his cock still hard inside of you and you rock slightly under him, fully relishing in the feeling. His chest hair is soft against your skin and you try to shimmy around so you can keep feeling it rub against you.
âWeâre never going this long without sex again,â William mutters into the crook of your neck. His cock twitches inside of you and he flexes his hips. You can feel the warmth of his come when itâs pushed out of you, making you shiver a bit.
âStupid challenge,â you agree. The fabric of your shirt is still bunched up under your neck and itâs choking you a bit, but youâre too sated to move. William works his hand between your bodies and toys with your breast, scraping his thumb nail over the sensitive point of your nipple. You clench around him and he grunts. Your clit still feels swollen and sore and need builds up low in your stomach. âI need another, Will.â
His mouth is lazily sucking a mark against your collarbone and he releases you with a wet pop. Propping himself up on one elbow, William grins down at you with a hungry look in his eyes. His hair is messy and damp with sweat. âWe need to make up for lost time,â he replies, sweeping his hand up and down your stomach, brushing his fingers close to your clit to see if he can get your hips to jerk. A twitch of his hips has his half-hard cock slipping in and out of your slick cunt, an almost obscenely wet sound filling the room.
You nod, taking your fingers through his chest hair and down through the trail below his belly button. His stomach muscles jump under your touch.
âI think we can be conservative and say I need at least twenty more,â you grin, clenching around him to watch his face twist up in an expression of pleasure. âWhen you take into account the travel days and whatnot.â
His laughter is bright and loud and he tweaks your nipple. âGreedy,â he murmurs. âLetâs start with three and see if we can beat that record first.â
You let your legs fall to the side and open yourself up for him. Grinning wickedly, you reply, âdo your best, Mr. Nylander.â
An hour and a half later, after youâve gotten two more orgasms and William washed your hair for you in the shower, youâre curled up against his chest with an icy blue Gatorade poured into your fancy Anthropologie glass.
Your legs are shaky, but youâve never been more content in your life.
âI would say Iâm sorry that you lost the teamâs challenge, but,â you shrug, sipping at the drink, âIâm really not.â
âEh, worth it,â William replies. âOnly a couple guys left anyway. Hell, even Kniesy lost back in week two and heâs the idiot that suggested it.â
You gasp, shooting up in the bed and nearly spilling your Gatorade. âIâve been in the orgasm desert because of Matt and he didnât even have the decency to WIN the challenge?â
William laughs and shrugs. âYeah, he kind of sucked at it,â he replies, tugging you back against his side, âI think itâs just Mitchy, Domes, Tanev, and Woller left.â
âWait,â you frown. âWhat was the prize for winning?â
âWe each kicked in one-fifty,â William rolls his up to the ceiling and squints while he does the math. âSo, three k? Plus winner gets a steak dinner from Reavo since he was the first to cave and we all have to kick in for the winnerâs golf club membership for a year.â
âJesus,â you roll your eyes. âWhat is it with you guys and the steak dinners? And if I had known that these were the prizes, I wouldâve held out another four days! I thought it was just like a pride thing.â
William laughs again and you let him pull you onto his lap, settling right over his cock. âĂlskling, none of us would do this shit if it were just pride on the line,â he says seriously, resting his hands on your hips and letting his fingers dip below the waistband of your sweats.
You roll your eyes again and pout, âobviously cold hard cash, steak, and a golf membership were the only three things that could get you idiots to keep it in your pants.â
âNone of those things are holding me back now,â William teases, leaning in to pepper kisses against your jaw. âWant me to take it out of my pants?â
The scratch of his facial hair feels good against your skin and you know youâre going to be beyond marked up tomorrow, but you angle your head to the side anyway to give him better access.
You hum, taking stock of the pleasant soreness between your legs and the flicker of arousal pooling low in your stomach. He kisses down the column of your neck, nipping gently at the jut of your collarbone. Williamâs hips rock under you and you can feel him grow hard and press into your core.
âI think I could go for a fourth,â you grin, gasping when he trusts his hips up into yours.
âSteak dinner is overrated anyway,â William replies, before taking your cup and putting it on the bedside table so he can manhandle you onto your back. âIâve got something better to eat.â
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begging- BEGGING PLEASSEE!!
for a Bumblee Bee x Decepticon reader whoâs short like him but more timid than their comrades. Like they mess up on missions, but they can be snappy too and fast like Bumblebee! I imagine him chasing them in a fun cat and mouse and accidentally takes it like a fun game. all scaring the heck out of them as he catches up with a smile. He would start crushing on them and just says things like itâs a fun idea âyou should totally switch sides! Join us!â And the reader is all bewildered but wary.
Bumblebee [Animated]
In which the small bot finds a con just about his size that he wants to spend more time with.
Reader is: Gender Neutral | Cybertronian | Decepticon. Romantic.
Bee has a fair few con encounters now that he is fighting for Earth
Usually they were against the likes of Blitzwing, Lugnut, and the odd Starscream
But you were new; you were something that paled in size but made up for in interest
You were mostly known for your ability to distract; that's right, the cons used you as a lure on purpose
You were small, nimble, decently fast, and as Random had once told you;
"You have the face of an Autobot!"
Autobots thought you were an easy target, easy to manipulate, perhaps less smart
But you were dedicated to the cause, and while you hated being bait and preferred your spot on intelligence collection, you were happy to do whatever Megatron wished of you
Usually, it was fine
But recently, the yellow one had gotten too close, and he was only getting better at catching up to you
Telling the cons you were scared was out of the question, but it was seriously concerning how obsessive it had become
Every time you made yourself visible to the Bots, he was racing towards you with a smile and a hand extended, like he expected you to reach out and accept him just like that
More recently, you were worried he'd actually catch you
Racing down a frozen-over river as thick snow slowly fell from the sky, leafless trees whizzing past your vision as your peds left compacted snow marks behind you
He had special wheels made for snow, but you didn't, and he was fast behind you, yelling some more of his pleas
"Aren't you tired of running? I just wanna talk!"
He sounded so young, certainly near your age, someone you could get along with had it not been for the war
But what if it was only a trick? What if he only played this game for his own amusement?
You'd long since called Blitzwing to help get you, since you couldn't fly, and he was on his way, but visibility was low with all the snow, fog, and your distant location
You had to keep running, but Bee was only a few meters behind by now; you could hear the snow crunching beneath his tires
"C'mon! Join the bots! We can race like this more often on real roads!"
He offered again, but you refused
"You make it sound easy; how about you just join the cons?"
You were just as snappy, though
Just as he got on your heels and transformed, digits inches away from grabbing your arm, you jumped up and grabbed onto the wing of the purple and tan jet that swooped down, dragged away from his reach in seconds
He stopped in his tracks and groaned, but his smile never left
"Next time, then!"
Authors Note - This prompt is so cute!!! It honestly reminds me of a Blitzwing fic I read by @vhaos-chaotic-writing that was him being yandere and kinda doing the same!
#aiko writez#transformers#headcanons#transformers x reader#transformer headcanons#x reader#reader insert#tfa x reader#tfa#tfa bumblebee#bumblebee x reader
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Seamstress | Part 7
Check out part 1 here.
CW: Momma drama. If you have a bad mom relationship like I do please read with caution. Also John comes home a bit broken. He gets better but not in this part.
John appears behind you as you are stepping into your shop. When his hand pushes the door open wider from behind you startle.
âJesus fuck me!â You jump and spin, eyes wide and chest heaving as you confirm who stood behind you.
The slightly worried look on Johnâs face tells you he didnât mean to startle you.
âSorry dove thought you heard me.â
âApparently my thoughts were too loud,â sheepishly you push the door shut behind him and begin to flick on lights.
Waiting for you at the counter with John is your jewelry box. It looks better than before if that is possible.
âI didnât stain it,â John runs a finger down the side and you wish that digit dragged down your side instead.
Fuck, bitch you canât be this horny yet, he just arrived. Apparently, the earth-shattering orgasm from your vibrator last night with the taste of him on your lips wasnât enough. When did you get so greedy?
âWhy not?â You ask as you fold your arms, not one hundred percent sure your bra would be able to trap your steel-tipped nipples.
Glancing from the box to John you see a soft smile. When he looks up at you it grows.
âI noticed how much you seemed to like the grain of the wood and seemed sad at the idea of it being covered up. A few coats of clear lacquer to protect it and it was done.â
âI love it. Iâm so glad you chose lacquer. I would have been happy with any choice you made but this? Itâs wonderful.â Leaving the box at the counter you waved John to follow you.
âI made you something as well.â Putting a hand on the nob of the door to the back room you spun. âI know itâs not really a problem, but you have complained about going into what you call âpower meetingsâ with only your slacks or your fancy uniforms so I made you something that should hold up against scrutiny.â
Johnâs arms are folded, head tilted ever so slightly to watch you with the smile tucked under his mustache.
Taking a deep breath you twist the handle and step back into the room. You hung the suit on the wall directly in front of the door so you could watch his face as he saw it. You had paid a pretty penny for the fabric, thread, and buttons. They all came together so seamlessly that even your friend who was a tailor wouldnât have been able to know a suitmaker hadnât put it together unless he started to pull it apart at the seams. You had also purchased the silk for his shirt and made that by hand as well.
The smile falls from his face as he steps up to the suit and runs a hand lightly over it.
âHoly fuck.â
Glancing from side to side you bite your lip.
âSo what do you think?â
When he turns you know why people like blue eyes so much. Johnâs blue eyes are enchanting with the tears rimming his lashes. They remind you of the ocean in the photos youâve seen of tropical places.
âI canât think of a gift that has ever meant more to me,â he chokes out around the tears in his throat.
âDo you want to try it on?â You suggest, heart fluttering in your chest.
âI want-â
His desires were cut off by the sound of the bell.
Turning you call out.
âSorry, we are closed today,â when you catch sight of your mom.
The warmth that had settled over you like sunlight as spring breaks chilled to the harshest of winter breezes. Shutting the door to the back room, and your joy from your sorrow you face your mother.
âYou didnât come to Christmas,â she starts.
âI told Pop I would be going to Nanaâs this year.â
âYouâre still mad at me,â she pouts with her eyebrows.
Your mother had skills in expressing herself without making a scene about it.
âI am not mad, Iâm done.â
Your mother stepped up to the counter, slowly opening each drawer of your gift. Snatching it off the counter you placed it on your working desk next to your sewing machine.
âWhat does being done have to do with not coming to Christmas?â
Sheâs pulling that mom tone again, trying to force you into a child role whether she knows it or not.
âI do not enjoy the way I feel while spending time with you. I do not like the comments you make or the fact that even when my brother is being rude I am still in the wrong. And I am done putting myself in situations to be hurt because you happened to get knocked up and produce me.â
She had told you once that you were a birth control failure baby. She had been drinking, you had been ten.
âI did not happen to get knocked up,â she sputtered.
Taking a deep breath you point your eyes at the ceiling and pray for patience.
âThat is not the point of this conversation and I apologize for bringing it up. What I am saying is that I wonât be spending more time with you until we can go to family therapy. Iâve told this to Pop several times. I will send you a few options between us and will set up the appointment as well.â
âBut I am your mother!â She is getting shrill, a sure sign she is losing control of the conversation in her mind.
âAnd I am grown. Now I have a private appointment I need to get back to.â
âIs this because of the comment about no one paying to see you naked? Iâm sorry that you were offended by what I said.â
Your jaw works as your fingers curl into talons and your shoulders stiffen.
âI am not having that discussion here and now. Pick a therapist from the list I send you or leave me alone.â
Mom looks shocked, scared even, at the tone you use. She turns leaving in a huff and you open the door to the back to see John, shirt unbuttoned and eyes blown wide as if someone dosed him with drugs.
âThatâs an option? I can pay to see you naked? Is a hundred enough?â
âA hundred?â You ask, confused but slightly hurt that he thought you were so cheap.
âNo? Okay, a hundred and fifty thousand?â He looks desperate and hopeful and lost and like he might combust all at once.
You choke on your spit. Did that man just offer a hundred and fifty thousand dollar bucks to see you naked!?
All it would have taken is a glass of wine, a smokey look, and an invitation to bed and your clothes would have disappeared from your body like they never existed. Like damn you had high self-confidence, forged out of hate comments online and in real life, but you werenât worth that much. Maybe John did like you like you liked him?
He stepped forward, mouth opening to form words when his phone went off. The instant change told you it was work.
âDammit all to hell and may it never return,â he snatched up his pants from the cot and answered the phone as he moved it to his ear, snarling. âWhat?â
You watched as the soldier overtook the man. His back straightened as he tucked the phone between his shoulder and his ear beginning to work at the buttons at his wrists. Stepping into his space you took over the task freeing him faster than he would have managed. Helping him out of the shirt you fold it over one arm, watching as he disappears below his shirt to reappear through the head hole. You donât offer to help him remove the pants but take them when offered without comment.
John doesnât spare you a glance as he pulls his cargo pants up, sheathing the deliciously thick thighs he hides. When he sits to tie his boots you toss the clothes from your arms to the cot and kneel to take over that task for him. Tying them tight you stand and offer him a hand. He takes it, holding on as he stands.
Still on the phone he pulls your knuckles to his lips and turns the phone away from his mouth.
âWhen I get back, we are talking about this.â
Itâs all you can do to nod before he dons his coat and slips into the precipitation of January.
đȘĄđȘĄđȘĄđȘĄđȘĄđȘĄđȘĄđȘĄđȘĄđȘĄđȘĄđȘĄđȘĄđȘĄđȘĄđȘĄđȘĄđȘĄđȘĄđȘĄđȘĄđȘĄ
The last of the snowdrops are blooming when John makes it back home. Between the knocks at the front door and the vibrating of your phone from under your pillow, you wake enough to stumble to the front door. The door opens fully before your eyes do.
John looks haggard, as if he aged ten years in the three months he was gone. A full beard had grown in, the ends ragged and uneven. His eyes flick over you. No expression crosses his face.
âJohn? Youâre home,â the sigh in your last word pulls him through the door and into your arms.
Itâs too late for your mind to come up with reasons why dragging him into your room after locking the front door would be a bad idea. Stripping him of his boots and his pants you invite him to lay under the blankets with you by laying them atop him and letting him settle into the mattress. Crossing around the bed you join him between the sheets. Laying on your side you stare at him.
Something about him felt broken and you didnât dare hold him and make it worse.
âWhat can I do John?â You ask the darkness between you.
The words settle on him like the ice blown around in the wind of the gulag.
âTell me what happened while I was gone. I donât feel real.â
You scoot closer to him in the bed, less than a handswidth between you.
âI brought your suit home. I missed you a few weeks after you left and had nothing but the photo from the party and your gift. My mom started going to individual therapy. We tried a couple of family sessions but the therapist recommended that she do some personal work before we attempt to do much more work on fixing our relationship. My brother called me on my birthday, which was unexpected. I bet my po-â
âI missed your birthday?â Johnâs broken whisper cut you off.
âYeah,â you reach out and touch his pinky. He flinches so you shift your hand back, but before it can go too far his hand chases you locking your fingers together.
âWhen is your birthday?â
âValentineâs Day.â
âYou must hate that.â
The accurate observation surprises you. Youâve talked with other people who have birthdays on holidays, most Christmas and New Yearâs babies hate it, birthdays on big celebration days that arenât the big big ones tend to go either way but for you, it always felt required to have a date on your birthday. Were you out because your date wanted to celebrate you or show off for the table around you?
âI do,â you let out a small chuckle. âMy brother was born on May Day, he doesnât seem to mind it. When is your birthday John?â
âJuly second.â He pulls in a deep breath, âWill you hold me?â
Small and scared his voice pierces into your chest.
âHowever you want to be held,â you answer in earnest.
âLay back?â
You adjust to settle on your back, fixing the pillow below your head. John follows you, as cautious as an alley cat. Once his head is resting against your chest, chin tipped between your breasts you curl your arm around his shoulder next to your ribs and rest your hand on his back. The shuddering breaths that start from him prompt you to keep telling him about what happened while he was away.
âDid you know your muppets came to visit me? They all brought in their own fixes and asked to use your cot. Every one of them woke looking like they had no clue where they were and agreed that they understood why you kept coming back for naps.â
You talk until you drift into sleep, but your dreams are full of stories so maybe you talk to John until you wake.
Seamstress Masterlist | Masterlist
#lostintransit#lostintransit writing#cod#fanfiction#cod x reader#price x reader#john soap mactavish#soap cod#john price x reader#captain john price#simon ghost riley#gary roach sanderson#kyle gaz garrick#fluff#a hint of angst
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okay here is the original ramble under the cut here! mainly doing these to the ones with associated textposts for different tagging systems tbh LOL
vvv
TLDR - The Universe keeps fucking with Loop and they are not really happy about it, regardless of timing.
While I haven't decided anything 100% concrete for Loop, the idea of a reverse isekaied Loop in general is interesting to me, so I'll be exploring that a bit here. Especially in terms of timing on when Loop gets taken out of their timeline. At least in terms of immediate outlook within this AU. So, for now, have a couple of those thoughts!Â
---
The two main points in time I am currently considering are the following:
1. From when they gave up their original wish and made a new one.
In this instance, I feel like their arc would play a bit similar to in game
Seeing this new world as different & peaceful
Since they donât have to deal with the loops anymore, just watch whatever happens.
Be a lil silly for funsies! The chaos that can ensue with a star being existing within a modern world!Â
Even though it hurts to see Siffrinâs team hanging around, they really donât have anywhere to go at the moment (hard to hide a star being in this type of world)
To a slow realization of how unfair this whole situation is. In comparison to all of the horrors they went through, this Siffrin has it so easy.
This Siffrin gets to live an idyllic life, free from the world calamity of being frozen & the literal time loop.
This Siffrin gets to freely hang around their family team, with no foreseeable "end" to being with them in sight.
This Siffrin had their original wish, the wish Loop wanted granted, handed to them on a silver platter.Â
This Siffrin, nor anyone in this world, would ever be able to come close to understanding what Loop went through; Loop would never truly be seen in this world, not fully anyway.
What does The Universe have against them, to put them into this world and make them witness all of this?
It should have been them, with this carefree type of life, given all they went through.
2. AFTER the fight with Siffrin.
This leans a bit more lighthearted than the last, since Loop would have gone through all the development from the game via convos + the talk at the very end with Siffrin, and has a bit more peace about their whole deal.
Perhaps they would still see the same conclusions as above, since healing from the horrors would not happen all at once, if ever, with additional flavor
Underlying bitterness in why the script is still going.Â
Why is The Universe asking for them to continue into a new world and role?
Havenât they had enough, once making them witness another Siffrinâs loops and perfect ending, and now a completely idyllic Siffrinâs life from the get go?
However, there is also a bit of hope in the entire situation. Since if The Universe keeps deciding to fuck with them (as in, sending them to different world lines) there is still, technically, the chance of going backward as well.
To their original timeline and to their family.
Once could have been a one-off, but twice?
Perhaps three world jumps might be the minimum to go back, following standard wishing rituals?
More hope in this one from the get-go, with that thought in mind.
---
Though there are probably other points in time that would be interesting too!Â
Another one I was considering was RIGHT BEFORE the fight with Siffrin, perhaps even mid-fight. However, I don't think that makes much sense for this particular AU ASAFASFASDAS. Can you imagine if Loop just spawned into this world, doesn't realize this is a completely different Siffrin, and attacks on sight?????
Honestly the idea of a reverse-isekaied Loop into different AU's in general is neat, would love to see other people's takes on it!! Especially cuz of the various reactions/conclusions Loop could have/make based on the scenario/circumstances would be interesting, if that makes sense. At least I think there is something in that thought? I dunno!
I feel like I am missing some characterization bits in here, but that was the main gist of it for now since I cannot remember LMAO.
Mumblings over, thanks for reading my silly thoughts if you got this far!!!
a star being appeared in your apartment, wdyd?
(aka loop getting reverse isekaied into the modern office au)
also there are some scattered mumblings on loop in this AU under the cut actually in an rb now link right here if anyone's interested (spoilers for all of ISAT, including 2hats!)
#srb#isat spoilers#<- benefit of doing it like this is when the rambles technically have 2 diff sets of spoilers since this is 2hats but original isnt#reverse entry au#reverse isekai loop au#miki muses#text
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Lâm so happy your back! I would like a request a yandere! Pm Dazai (18 yrs old) with a darling whoâs naĂŻve and innocent (of course he kidnaps them) how would he react to a such pure person! Thank you for taking this request.
Yandere!PM!Dazai with a naive and innocent reader
This is the first time I write for PM!Dazai (and I do headcanons), don't kill me
Yandere!PM!Dazai x Reader
Idk english, I don't like english, let me
summary: the title :D
tw: kidnapping, corruption of innocence, stalking, death (not reader or Dazai), physical and psychological abuse, maybe something else but idk
Honestly, I don't know how you got into this situation.
I can only think of two options as to how you ended up getting his attention: Dazai was looking for someone like you or you just surprised him.
With the first option, I guess he wanted to get away momentarily from everything he had known in his life, get someone who wasn't as fucked up as he was.
Or you just came unexpectedly into his life, maybe you got involved in one of his missions without having any idea.
Either way, Dazai was dazzled by your innocence.
You are the opposite of him and he wants to keep it that way, he knows what this world is capable of doing to pure souls like yours and he is not going to allow that.
First he won your trust, it was easy, you trusted everyone too fast, you didn't even doubt him in spite of his strange attitude that didn't let you see beyond him.
You never realized the danger in front of your eyes and that only made Dazai adore you more.
He would know every little part of your life, the names of all your friends and the places you go to, he always has an eye on you.
He would keep your friends and family away from you, he's not afraid to kill, threaten or torture others for that purpose.
Deep down, all he wants to do is to corrupt you.
He wants to be the one to destroy your innocence, to show you the cruelty of the world, even if it is contradictory to his initial purpose.
Maybe that's the reason he kidnapped you.
And oh god, that's when the real fun begins.
He doesn't care about your opinion, not in the slightest, and punishments are just around the corner.
Forced affection would be a normal thing, he sees you as a kind of safe place where he can be a bit more vulnerable, just a bit đ€
Still, I doubt he would ever let you see his true feelings.
That would only be way down the road in your relationship, when Dazai can have complete confidence that you'll never escape.
Yandere!Dazai is not easy, least of all if he's PM Dazai, but your attitude would make it somewhat more tolerable.
Being such a naive little thing, he can trust you more easily.
Plus you're terrified of him, so you don't even think about running away.
But if you were to try⊠Well, remember what I said about punishments being just around the corner? Then get ready for torture.
Breaking bones, beating you unconscious, isolating you for days, starving and thirsting you, etc.
Although he usually mistreats you as well, it's all more psychological.
He wants to make you see the evil, to see you break and cry.
Makes him have a mix between sadistic joy and regret.
He really feels very guilty for everything he does, for seeing you in such a broken state.
He would never tell you, the closest you get to that would be a strangely silent Dazai cuddling like a koala bear to you.
I hope you have enough mental stamina to endure your stay with Dazai
Oh, and if he sees that he's broken you until there's nothing left of the original you or that all your innocence is gone, maybe he'll kill you because he's bored đ
The image of your friend would not leave your head. He was immobile, cold, dead.
It was the first time you saw a corpse in real life, it made your blood run cold. Especially because you saw him die and you couldn't do anything about it.
Dazai killed him, after many hours of torture, one shot in his head and his screams stopped. You saw the blood spill on the floor along with pieces of flesh. You did not vomit because of the absence of food in your stomach, but the nausea was there.
He wouldn't let you take your eyes off him, even when he was torturing him. When his fingernails were being pulled out and his skin was burning. You had to keep watching or the torture would transfer to you.
You couldn't save him. Your throat was torn from screaming, but he was still dead. Would his corpse still be in that dark warehouse? Would that be his grave? At least you would have liked to have been able to give him a proper funeral, not abandon him.
You didn't understand how someone could be as evil as Dazai was. Your friend did nothing, he just worried about your disappearance. Now, because of you, he too would become a missing person.
The tears were still wet when an extra weight was placed on the bed. You refused to move, afraid that he would take you back to continue seeing those horrible things, things you can't even describe without breaking down in tears.
He lies behind you and wraps his arms around you, his hands that caused so many murders gently holding your body.
You never thought before that the perpetrators of these acts could be ordinary people, people you would trust and befriend. But they could be, the proof of that was Dazai, someone too young to be killing.
You are conflicted by the situation, you empathize with Dazai. You want to understand him and know what led him to be the way he is today, try to justify him, but he killed your friend. The dilemma of whether he deserved a forgiveness eats at you inside. Could his actions be justified by his past? Maybe Dazai is just a victim like you.
Be that as it may, apparently you still have time to think because he doesn't plan to let you go anytime soon.
I am sleep deprived
#bsd x reader#bsd x you#yandere bsd#yandere#yandere dazai#pm dazai#bsd dazai#dazai x y/n#dazai x reader#dazai osamu#dazai#bungou stray dogs dazai
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Aziraphale's Jubilant Smile (NOT the crazy elevator grin)
Part 8 of 8 in The Chess Moves Theory Set by @wistfulnightingale
The rare times we see Aziraphale smile like this, it makes me want to smile too! The happiness is contagious. It's a genuine smile, the special smile our angel usually reserves for Crowley.
Remember seeing it? Just before Aziraphale gets on the elevator?
Neither did I.
No, it's not a special edit or cut scene. It goes by in a millisecond, just after the Metatron announces The Second Coming, and steps out of our sightline. This is the expression on Aziraphale's face, for the tiniest instant, before he registers what the Metatron just said. Our Angel is looking in the direction of Crowley and the Bentley. He was safe for a moment, literally behind the Metatron's back, unseen and unsupervised for a few moments, as that wonderful smile was happening.
As the Metatron steps aside, the camara cuts and moves in closer. The Angel's happy grin immediately disappears, and Aziraphale's remaining small smile slowly fades and changes to alarm as he turns his head to look after the Metatron.
Then, he slowly and cautiously turns his head back towards Crowley. It has to be a guarded and cautious look because now the Metatron is in the elevator facing Aziraphale, frowning expectantly...
But the Jubilant, Happy Smile that was first there suggests to us a new understanding of what might have been happening in that cautious look across the street, and why Crowley was still waiting.
If nothing else from the other 7 parts of my 8-Part Chess Moves Theory made you reconsider the Final 15, this singular photo might.
We see so much anxiety and stiff smiles and mixed messages from Aziraphale in his contact with the Metatron, from the time the so-called Voice of God walks into the bookshop uninvited and seemingly without permission (See Nothing Lasts Forever), to the time Aziraphale gets on the elevator. We know he is not Happily trotting away, excited about his new promotion. And it appears that he just broke up with Crowley and is leaving him behind...
Until we see this exuberant smile -- aimed in Crowley's direction.
It's not an anxious smile or a fake smile or one of the hundred variations of Aziaphale putting on an act for someone. It's a pure, happy, genuine smile.
Folks, something happened.
Something we didn't get to easily see.
Something hidden in Misdirection, and in chaotic confusion, and in loss and grief and frantic scrambling to figure out how to cope and what to do...
I think it happened during the Kiss (See The Circle Kiss Theory), but, even if I'm mistaken.... some Good thing must have happened to make Azi smile at Crowley like that!
..........
Tumblr is fun and Tumblr is wonderful weird chaos. You might be seeing this final post of mine before seeing any of the rest of my 8-part Chess Moves Theory Set. If you're interested or curious about the rest of the interconnected ideas I have about all this, you might enjoy checking out the rest of them at @wistfulnightingale!
Thanks for coming along on this crazy ride!!!
The 8 Chess Moves MetaTheory Set:
1 - The Metatron Misdirection
2 - The Metatron's Second Coming
3 - Ineffables in Check
4 - A Hefty Jigger of Death
5 - Nothing Lasts Forever
6 - The Circle Kiss Theory
7 - The Nightingale DID Sing
8 - Aziraphale's Jubilant Smile (Not the crazy elevator grin)
Also: The Chess Moves Theory Set, Why Chess & Magic?
#good omens#good omens theories#chess moves theory#good omens meta#final fifteen#the metatron#good omens 2#ineffable husbands#aziraphale loves crowley#always and always and forever#aziracrow#wistfulnightingale#to our world#thank you rob and rhianna#rescued 90
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How would the ghouls feel if a like dove appears while they're with mc/pc
I'm so so sorry this took me so long!!!
anon this is a beautiful idea I love you mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah
I hope you don't mind me tweaking this just a little though!
Ghouls Reaction to Seeing a Like Dove While Alone with MC
These are all written under the assumption that you're the one whose feelings made the Like Dove show.
Frostheim:
Jin Kamurai - Jin would notice the dove but he wouldn't care for its presence or for what it means. He's King Kamurai, after all. There's probably dozens of students thinking about him.
Tohma Ishibashi - I could totally see Tohma teasing you about the dove once he sees it. He'd ask you if you know what it means or if you brought it here- but he'd change the topic before you could answer
Lucas Errant - Luca would point out the dove, thinking it looks pretty, but he wouldn't realize what it means despite Kaito telling him in the early chapters.
Kaito Fuji - Kaito would freak the fuck out and cry like he just won the lottery. Seeing a Like Dove basically is like winning the lottery for him.
Vagastorm:
Alan Mido - Alan would point out the dove, but only because he thinks it looks nice. He has absolutely no idea what it means. "Hey. Look at that bird. Why?... It seems like something you'd like."
Shohei Haizono - Sho is used to seeing the doves hang around Leo, but not him. What did they mean again? Something about someone liking someone else? Whatever, he doesn't care.
Leo Kurosagi - Leo wouldn't pay any mind to the Like Dove. He sees those things all the time, after all. It doesn't mean anything to him anymore.
Jabberwock:
Haru Sagara - Haru would think it's just another anomaly wandering around Jabberwock- not that it's near him for any specific reason. He'd still tease you about it though. "Gyahaha! A Like Dove! Those only show up when someone's crushing on you!! Do you have a thing for me?"
Towa Otonashi - Towa would get so giddy and happy. After all, he saw a Like Dove while he was with you!! That must mean you love him justtt as much as he loves you! He'd wrap his arms tightly around you and give you a big hug as he nuzzles you.
Ren Shiranami - Ren would brush it off completely. "Oh, that? Yeah apparently those show up and visit people when someone's crushing on them. Dunno who'd ever be into me tho."
Sinostra:
Taiga Hoshibami - He'd eat it. And then he'd eat you. It's up to you whether it's in the kinky way or not.
Romeo Lucci - The Like Dove would immediately catch Romeo's eye and he'd demand you to capture it for him. He'd be too focused on grabbing the rare anomaly to even confront you about why it appeared when you were with him.
Ritsu Shinjo - Ritsu wouldn't say anything about the dove but he'd take note of it. If he kept seeing them around, he'd eventually talk to you about it. " I often see Like Doves whenever we're together. Do you have romantic feelings for me?"
Hotarubi:
Haku Kusanagi - Haku would tease you about the dove, but in the kind of way that revolves around you. "You see that dove over there? It means someone's thinking of you. I'm not surprised. You're quite the catch~"
Subaru Kagami - Subaru would be more shy about it than you. He wouldn't want to bring it up... what if you think he's accusing you of having a crush on him? He probably wouldn't even be able to look at the pink bird.
Zenji Kotodama - Zenji would point out the dove and sing a little rhyme he wrote about it. He'd tell you stories of the dove without really realizing why it showed up for him.
Obscuary:
Edward Hart - Ed would pretend not to notice the dove while he teases you (aka asks you outlandish questions). And of course, he'd throw in a "Do you prefer Rui or Lyca?"
Rui Mizuki - Rui would point it out and tease you about it relentlessly. "You know what those mean, right? Someone has a crush~"
Lyca Colt - Lyca would notice the Like Dove from the sudden new smell. He'd glare and growl at it, thinking it means danger. "Grrr... what is that thing? Why's it following me around?"
Mortkranken:
Yuri Isami - Seeing the dove would boost Yuri's already massive ego. Of course someone's thinking of him! He's a magnificent doctor! Wait... what do you mean Like Doves show for romantic adoration?! After this realization, he'd go into Victorian Gentleman Cardiac Arrest âą
Jiro Kirisaki - Jiro probably wouldn't even notice it unless you pointed it out. Even then, he'd just info dump about the biology of the Like Dove, the meaning of it's presence completely going over his head.
#GAHH IM FINALLY DONE#i really am sorry this took so long!!#tokyo debunker#tkdb#undead ramblings#tdb#tokyo debunker headcanons#headcannons
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So. That was Arcane. As a whole.
Best episode of the season was episode 7. I might be a bit biased thanks to Silco and Vander living it up as their older selves but also, Ekko is truly the mvp of the show.
I hmm. Well. Victor. I see what was going on there. I see the vision. I loved lot of it. I had the sudden realizations of "that's Victor, right" before it happened....dude looked more like Jesus than ever before too. But uhh. Hmm. Hmm. There is like a chapter missing between s1 and s2 with Victor. Or more like mid season 2 chapter. Love my boy still. I did not care for his Machine Herald look. I liked the idea of the face being split. It hmm. I feel like they said, instead of showed, a lot with Victor this season.
My controversial opinion: Isha was unnecessary. The black rose mage stuff was unnecessary. Same end result could've been achieved with other means. Vi was just there to experience things and be sad. Jinx can't have shit and should suffer all the time, I guess.
BUT
Nice
My man was a positive voice for Jinx. Uhhh in a way. Kinda made her go suicidal but like, he was trying. He is always trying. Even after death. Maybe after his hallucination talk people will understand that Silco wasn't just a evil dude with evil things to do, he was as trapped as everyone else in Zaun and wanted to break free.
Tho, I doubt it. The main enemy in Arcane is the class divide. In my eyes.
I do love the exploration of Hextech and how using magic in a technological way can be super dangerous and fuck shit up. I wanted to see that. And I did see that in season 1, when Jayce realizes how dangerous the hextech weapons are! Exploring the time loop and how abstract magic is, was great! I just.
I love this show. Very much. Season 1, no notes. It's made for me.
Season 2 seems like a people pleaser. And I am pleased! Yet I also wanted something different.
I am still happy because I got my vindication. Zaundads is canon, fuck yeah! No man looks at another man like that and is not in love with them!
I loved that they kept that Vander still tried to kill Silco. Silco went "yea ok that ass too good to quit. What is little murder between lovers, anyway. Come here bby"
Only thing. Silco should've interacted with Jinx in the alternative timeline. A simple "you look beautiful" when she has her entrance or "hey here's snack have fun building whatever you guys are building. Don't make too much noise, your father and I need to get up early tomorrow ok bye bye my perfect little genius"
#arcane#arcane spoilers#arcane season 2#arcane season 2 spoilers#i didn't think we'd get that much silco but we got so much
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Healing - James Potter
ââ§âșËâ Masterlist âËâșâ§â
Summary: James Potter has made a habit of visiting you in the hospital wing for every one of his "injuries"
âËâșâ§ââœâŻâŸââ§âșËâ
The hospital wing smelled of clean linens and healing potions, the quiet hum of magic hanging in the air as you tidied the space. You had always been drawn to healing, and your time as Madame Pomfreyâs apprentice had only solidified your desire to make it your career. It was a quiet day, which you didnât mind; the calm allowed you to focus on your studies.
Then, the doors burst open.
Madame Pomfrey appeared, bustling in alongside a stretcher that levitated James Potter. He looked worse for wear, his jersey rumpled and streaked with dirt, his glasses askew, and a pained expression on his face.
"Another Quidditch injury, of course," Madame Pomfrey sighed as the stretcher lowered onto one of the beds. She turned to you, offering a kind smile. "Y/N, youâll handle this one. James, meet Y/N, my apprentice. Sheâll be taking care of you today."
James, despite his discomfort, managed a grin. "Pleasure to meet you, Healer-in-Training."
You smiled softly, pulling a chair to sit beside him. "The pleasures all mine James. Now, what happened?"
He winced, rubbing the back of his neck. "Got shoved off my broom during the game. Didnât land quite right. My legâs killing me."
You nodded, already jotting down notes in your leather-bound notebook. "You probably a pulled muscle when you landed. Let me grab a few things to help with that. Stay putâIâll be right back."
As you walked to the supply cupboard, you heard a commotion behind you.
"Prongs!"
You turned slightly to see three boys barreling into the room: Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew. All wore matching looks of worry, though Sirius's dramatic flair made him the loudest.
"Are you okay?" Sirius asked, rushing to Jamesâs bedside. "Do you need me to carry you everywhere now? I will, you know."
James groaned, half in pain, half in exasperation. "Iâm fine, Pads. Itâs just a pulled muscle."
Peter and Remus settled into chairs nearby, though Sirius decided to climb onto the bed, squishing himself beside James.
When you returned, your arms full of salves and potions, you stopped short at the sight of the chaotic group. Youâd expected only James, but now there was a whole audience.
Clearing your throat softly, you stepped closer. "Hello, everyone."
The Marauders turned to you, and Sirius gave you an overly enthusiastic wave. "Oh, hello! Are you here to save our James?"
"Thatâs the idea," you replied, amused. Then you turned your attention to Sirius. "But Iâll need some room to work, so Iâm afraid youâll have to get off the bed."
Sirius pouted dramatically but complied, sliding off and promptly sitting on Remusâs lap instead.
"Really, Padfoot?" Remus muttered, though he didnât push him off.
"Thank you," you said with a small smile before turning back to James. "Alright, Iâm going to apply some salves and potions to help the muscle heal. Let me know if anything feels uncomfortable."
James nodded, watching you with an expression that was equal parts curiosity and appreciation. You worked quickly but gently, your touch steady and practiced.
"That should do it," you said, stepping back and packing up your supplies. "How does it feel?"
James stretched his leg cautiously, a grin spreading across his face. "Loads better already, actually. Thanks, Y/N. Youâre a miracle worker."
"Happy to help," you replied, handing him a small jar of salve. "Apply this if it starts to bruise or feel sore again. Do you think youâre okay to walk back to your dorm, or would you like to stay a bit longer?"
"Iâll be fine," James said confidently, already swinging his legs over the side of the bed.
"Take it easy," you warned lightly, your tone soft but firm.
James smiled up at you, his warm hazel eyes meeting yours. "Donât worry. If anything happens, Iâll come straight back, I wouldnât mind seeing you again."
Sirius let out a mock gasp. "James Potter, are you flirting with the healer?"
Jamesâs ears turned pink, but he shrugged nonchalantly. "Canât blame me for appreciating good company."
You chuckled, shaking your head as you moved to tidy up. "Take care, James."
As the Marauders escorted him out, Sirius called back over his shoulder. "Youâre always welcome at our dorm, Y/N! Just say the word!"
âËâșâ§ââœâŻâŸââ§âșËâ
It had become a running joke among your fellow students: James Potterâs newfound devotion to the hospital wing. Whether it was a phantom ache, a paper cut, or the slightest shove from Sirius, he was there, demanding your attention. You couldnât say you minded too muchâit was hard not to find his antics endearing.
Today, however, was different.
When James walked in, his usual playful swagger was replaced with something a bit more subdued. A dark purple bruise marred his cheek, and his glasses were slightly askew. You immediately put down the textbook you were studying and stood to greet him.
"James," you said, concern lacing your voice. "What happened?"
He gave you a sheepish grin as he settled onto the nearest bed. "Ran into a bit of trouble with some Slytherins. Just a little scuffleânothing to worry about."
You frowned, pulling your stool closer to him. "A little scuffle? This bruise says otherwise."
Grabbing a jar of salve, you dipped your fingers into the cool, minty substance and turned back to him. Gently, you cupped his face, tilting it so the light caught the bruise.
James froze, his hazel eyes wide as he looked up at you. For once, he was completely still, not a single cheeky comment slipping from his lips.
"This might sting a little," you murmured, focusing on applying the salve. Your thumb brushed along his cheekbone with practiced care, and James let out a soft sigh, though you werenât sure if it was from relief or something else entirely.
As you worked, you couldnât help but notice the way he was looking at youâlike you were the only person in the world. It made your heart do an annoying little flip, but you pushed the feeling aside, focusing on the task at hand.
"Is there anything else you need?" you asked softly, your hands still cradling his face.
James hesitated for a moment before his lips curled into a grin, mischief sparkling in his eyes. "Actually, yeah. There is one thing."
You tilted your head, worried there might be another injury. "What is it?"
He leaned just the slightest bit closer, pointing to his cheek, his grin turning playful. "Arenât you going to kiss it better?"
You blinked, taken aback for a moment, before a laugh escaped your lips. âJames Potter, youâre impossible."
"Hey, it might help," he said, his grin widening. "Youâre the healerâyouâd know best, wouldnât you?"
Rolling your eyes, you tapped his nose lightly. "I think the salve will do just fine."
He sighed dramatically, sitting back against the bed. "Worth a shot."
You shook your head, trying to suppress a smile as you packed up your supplies. "Let me know if the swelling doesnât go down in a day or two. And try to stay out of trouble for once."
"No promises," he said, hopping off the bed. Before leaving, he paused by the door, turning back to flash you a boyish grin. "Thanks, Y/N. Youâre the best."
As the door closed behind him, you couldnât help but smile to yourself. James Potter might have been impossible, but he was also undeniably charming.
âËâșâ§ââœâŻâŸââ§âșËâ
#fanfic#fluff#marauders#james potter#dead gay wizards from the 70s#marauders era#the marauders#james potter imagine#james x reader#james x you#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter x reader#james imagine#james potter oneshot#james potter fanfiction#fanfiction#x reader#marauders fic#marauders fandom#hp marauders
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Tbh ever since BTD this is nothing new to me now lol! Before then I'd always be like, pikachu face, because it was so surprising to me.
đ€ It's one of those things where if i hear the right voice then I'll know lol (this is also partly the reason why I made one of my characters mute, so i wouldnt have to think about it |D)
Thank you! I've been drawing ever since i was kid, but it only became more of an actual hobby when i was a teenager. So yes, you could say it's been a long time haha.
I do actually! From a few years back. Well, they're just a bunch of screenshots i put together but the result is the same lol.
Why are you guys so kaypoh about my friendship statuses, ngl that's kinda weird lol. Anyway EP disappeared like a thousand years ago and every now and then me and Gato dm. As noted before, everyone has been off doing their own things for a while now :d
Oh man that was a long time ago, but yes we did once have tentative ideas for an OC fighting game! XD It would have required a lot more programming know how then what we had at the time though (also the slow death of Flash didnt help, as that's what I used to make all my mini games in).
Aust, one, and hm, savory stuff i guess things like pastas/noodles and potato products (mm mash). Oh and soup. I fucking love soup lol.
^ Actual image of me drinking soup
[This ask was in relation to a post i did where i was trying out Sketchbook app on the ipad]. Haha yeh i've been told that Ibis might have a lot of ads, which for how often I use the ipad to draw (hardly ever, as intuos5 still my beloved) is dealbreaker for me when compared to Sketchbook |D So at this point in time something simple just for doodling is working out well :)
Guys cmon half the fandom/the entire fandom does not seriously call me that XD
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Some forms of courtship of male wolves are to adopt dominant postures, like show their teeth or they may give gifts such as meat or bones, all to impress the female
I like to think that Twilight unconsciously does something similar, he stands at attention around you, puffs out his chest a little, if he hunts an animal he makes sure to pass close to you so you can see it, finds nice things around and leaves them in your stuff, etc
It's all about you, he wants your attention and approval so much unconsciously that he's like a puppy, If you want, he can lie on his back in front of you (act of submission or surrender) Just so you understand how much you have him wrapped around your finger, But please tell him he's doing everything good đ„ș
I really like this, this idea itself is very good, and maybe it's because I like it so much that it was so difficult to do.
It took me a long time to get around to writing something about it, because all the ideas didn't seem good enough, and I still think it didn't turn out the way I wanted. But here it is!
Instincts
The Rancher approached me, with something in his hands, crouched down in front of me, where I was sitting, extended his closed hand towards me and opened it, revealing a golden ring with a blue stone in it.Â
â What is this? â I asked, confused about why he had it, and why he was showing it to me, and not about what the object itself was.Â
â A ring, I found it in a chest. Itâs for you. â He answered, still with his hand extended, offering me the ring. â As soon as I saw it, I thought of you. â He concluded with a sweet smile on his lips.Â
That made me smile too, it was really nice to know that someone thought of me seeing something like that, especially when that someone is Twilight. This feeling has been following me constantly for the last few weeks, I feel strangely silly when heâs around, and it feels like Iâm going crazy, because Iâm starting to think that maybe this could mean something more coming from him. This is probably just my deluded mind seeing things, but it makes me happy.Â
I accepted the ring, he didnât seem willing to give up on the idea of ââme wearing it, and it fit perfectly on my ring finger, it felt right to be there, and it was really very beautiful. Satisfied with that, the blond stood up and turned his attention to something Time had said, but I hadnât heard it, as I was too focused on the present to notice the things around me.Â
I sighed and hoped that no one was around to hear my silly act of a little girl in love, especially the Veteran and the Captain. I got up from the place I had been sitting under the shade of a tree. It was still morning, some of the boys had gone out to explore the surroundings of the place where we were camping and had just returned, as had Twilight. This ring was probably found in the surroundings. And now, he, Time and the Champion were going to hunt for our food. There wasnât much to do. We would be staying here all day to replenish our supplies and regain our strength, as the next city was still far away.Â
I went towards where Sky was sitting, he was sculping something on a small piece of wood, which ended up catching my attention. I sat down next to him and was greeted by a kind smile. He seemed to understand my curiosity, because before saying anything he showed me the object he was working on. It still looked very unfinished, almost shapeless, but I was able to recognize that it was a bird.Â
â Itâs a hobby of mine, it helps me to distract myself. Â
â I liked it, itâs really cool, but it seems difficult. Youâre talented. â I replied, enchanted by the manual work, I wanted to know how to do things like that, it would be great to give as a gift. Â
â Do you want to try? I can teach you if you want. Â
â Are you sure? I wonât get in your way? â He just laughed at my question. Â
â No, of course not, it will be fun! Â
That was enough to convince me, after all, I was already very tempted. Sky gave me a square piece of wood that I could make whatever I wanted and asked me to choose something to carve. I thought for a moment, but soon a perfect image came to mind. He helped me mark the shape on the wood, and then he showed me how I should use the tools. Â
It took a while for me to get the hang of it, but soon I was in the mood and we were both working on it, focused, taking advantage of this quiet time to talk. He told me about his Zelda, and how he used to make her these cute little gifts. There came a time when we just talked about whatever came to mind, without much concern.Â
Until the hero stopped talking, and something covered the sun behind me, creating a large shadow. Sky looked at what was behind me, looking surprised and confused, mostly confused, which made me look back too. And there he was, standing, at his full size, carrying a slaughtered boar on his shoulders with a certain pride, with his clothes even a little stained by the animalâs blood, Twilight. For some reason, he was just standing there, without reacting, staring at his brother with something that looked like a frown, which only made the situation stranger and more confusing.Â
â Well, if youâll excuse me, I needed to talk to Time, now that heâs back. â Sky said, getting up from his seat and leaving, with an expression that looked like understanding.Â
I could see the wolf boyâs posture relax drastically, and finally, when Sky left us, his gaze turned directly to me, with a big smile on his face. I stood up, putting my unfinished work in one of the pockets of my belt, and turning my attention to him.Â
â I got this. â That was all he said, keeping his proud smile on his lips, making me smile with his attitude.Â
â Impressive! Iâm sure the Cook and I will be able to make something very good out of this.Â
His smile faltered for a moment at my words, but then he just nodded in agreement, satisfied for some reason.Â
â Yes, Iâll help you.Â
â Oh, no need, youâve already done great at that.Â
â No, itâs okay, I want to help you.Â
I ended up just accepting that, so I went over to where Wild was to prepare lunch. He didnât take too kindly to the idea of ââthe Rancher helping, saying there wouldnât be much for him to do, but his insistence ended up winning the argument. He ended up only being left with the task of cutting the meat, in the end, but that seemed good enough for him. While the Champion and I took care of the rest and talked, he kept staring at his brother with that same weird frown. Whatâs gotten into him?Â
After we did most of the work, all that was left was to wait until the meat cooked, so Wild released us from the task. I went to a corner to read, and for a moment, I thought Twilight would follow me to that corner, if he hadnât been called by Warriors, making him sulk again. Itâs a shame, I really wish I had his company right now.Â
 I didnât see him again then, at least not until now. After lunch I spent the rest of the afternoon going back to work on the wooden sculpture, I wanted it to be perfect. This was good, because it distracted me for hours, when I saw it, it was already getting dark, the boys who were out, for unknown reasons, returned, including my wolf boy, who came straight towards me, ignoring any calls from his brothers. Â
He threw himself down next to me, resting his head on my shoulder and sighing. Poor thing, it must have been a tiring day for him. I put my work, now finished, aside and moved so I could look at him better, making him raise his head, attentive to my movements. I put a hand on his cheek, I felt hypnotized by his beauty, and it hit me even harder when I saw him melt into my hand, smiling. That was, until his smile died, for some reason, leaving me worried. Did I do something wrong?  Â
Before I could ask him anything about it, he pulled me into his lap, making me squeal in surprise, and pulled me close to his body, hugging me tightly in a protective manner. I couldnât be more confused, but Iâm definitely not complaining.Â
â Whatâs wrong? â I asked softly, and he took a moment to answer, looking thoughtful.Â
â You still smell like Sky. Iâm taking care of it.Â
I didnât know what to say to that, I didnât imagine that I could smell like someone else like that, but there was no point in contradicting him about it either, after all, Twilightâs sense of smell is definitely quite sharp. I sighed, relaxing against the strong manâs body with a goofy smile on my face. What a good day.Â
â Oh, I have something for you! â I said, picking up the sculpture I had been working on, which was shaped like a wolf, or rather, Wolfie, and handing it to him. â Sorry, it didnât turn out very well, Iâm still learning.Â
He held the gift carefully, analyzing it, looking surprised. Then he pulled me closer, giving me a tight hug and burying his face in my neck, I could feel him smiling against my skin.Â
â Thank you, dear. â He said, looking me in the eyes again, and placing a warm kiss on my right cheek.Â
#link x reader#linked universe x reader#linked universe#lu x reader#tloz#linked universe fanfic#x reader#legend of zelda#lu twilight x reader
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The green eyed monster
Shen Qingqiu gets a kitten. Luo Binghe isn't very happy about it.
Luo Binghe is angry. Bitter. Miffed. Pissed off. Displeased. Inconvenienced.
Jealous.
This is ridiculous!
He is the Demon Realm's Emperor, he is- he defeated the Abyss!
He is the best husband anyone could ever have, Shizun has never even seen the laundry basin once! Let alone the kitchen! The brooms neither!
So why isn't he that is being cuddled and kissed on the head and receiving pats?! Where is his affection?!
It's all the fault of that stupid, useless furry animal, that pathetic kitten Shizun found meowing its head off in the bamboo forest a few weeks ago, a palm sized black creature with wide, scared eyes and a voice loud enough to echo in the whole Cang Qiong Mountain!
Of course, Shizun is so kind and loving, he couldn't have left that screaming beast to die there, especially since it was so small, so he scooped it up, placed it in his lapels (in his lapels! On his chest!) and brought it back to the bamboo house.
The terrible beast lapped up all the food it could get amd purred loud enough to drown out any conversation, cuddling up to Shen Qingqiu obsessively, sticking its face against his as if demanding kisses.
And Shen Qingqiu gave them to it! Willingly! Smiling!
Luo Binghe was going to die of rage.
The beast had even nestled in their bed - "Binghe, she's too small to sleep alone!" - and in order "not to jostle it", Shen Qingqiu had apologetically told his husband they could have sex later, the kitten needed a "safe, warm place to sleep".
The audacity of that ball of pathetic black fluff to curl up on Shen Qingqiu's chest after made Luo Binghe burn inside with rage. That was his spot!
Ever since that night, the beast had become a part of their daily lives, and Luo Binghe hated it. Shen Qingqiu was doing everything with it, keeping it in his lapels or on his lap, playing with it with his brush handles and kissing it constantly.
Kissing!
Only Binghe should get Shizun's attention, anyway, but kisses?!
He decided that the animal had to go.
Keyword: he.
Because Shen Qingqiu had visibly recoiled at the idea of sending the kitten back outside or building her a shelter in the bamboo forest, no matter how pathetically Binghe suggested it.
In fact, the way Shizun looked, so protective but so heartbroken at the thought of being separated from his pet filled Binghe with so much guilt he wished to jump into the Abyss again.
Which brings us to the present.
Shen Qingqiu is attending some peak lord meeting the details of which Luo Binghe forgot because he's been too busy staring at Shizun's lips as he spoke about it to pay attention - and he has left the beast into Binghe's care for the day.
"Make sure you give her some food by mid-day, okay?" Shen Qingqiu had said, picking up the animal to kiss its small, inky nose. The thing purred. PURRED! "And play with her lots, she's so active!"
"Yes, Shizun, please don't worry, I'll do my best..."
"If anything happens, just come get me, okay? She's so small, so I worry..."
Binghe has to fight the impulse to roll his eyes at the memory. The beast is doing quite well running around, wreacking havoc. Why does it have so much energy? Binghe is sick of cleaning up after it. And it meows so much, the noise is hurting his ears.
Could it be so bad if he accidentally left a window open...?
He immediately squashes the thought. Shizun would be devastated!
So what was he to do now?
He just watched the ball of black fluff flurry around the bamboo house like it's possessed by demons. What a terrible thing. Why does Shizun love it so much? It's just a pathetic little thing without a family or a purpose, abandoned by its kind, that fell in love with the first person that gave it a modicum of affection!
Binghe resolutely refuses to think who that reminds him of.
But the little beast is not easily swayed. It seems to know Binghe dislikes it, so it sticks to his side constantly. It sleeps on his face sometimes, or attacks his ankles when he cooks, even licks his hand when it wants pets.
Binghe hates it.
But he does it anyway - for Shizun's sake! He couldn't care less about this puny creature!
...so, you may wonder, why is he playing with it now that Shizun is not here?
That is because Shizun might realize the kitten hasn't been entertained properly and scold Binghe of course! Sure, he did laugh a bit when the kitten tumbled on its tail as it tried to catch the feather Binghe dangled in front of it, and he found it funny how it reached for his hands to bite at his wiggling fingers - but that doesn't mean anything.
Binghe flicks a finger in the little kitten's face, and instead of flinching, it sniffs his finger pad curiously before rubbing its face against it.
Disgusting.
Binghe scratches beneath its chin with a long nail and catches himself smiling as the kitten purrs and closes its eyes contently.
Terrible.
The kitten ducks its head beneath Binghe's finger and he rolls his eyes. "So needy, does Shizun spend all his days spoiling you?"
"Mrow."
He huffs, but runs his hand over the kitten's head indulgently. "You always hog all his attention, how much do you even need, huh?"
The kitten purrs loudly in response as it rubs up against Binghe's gentle hand, and he can't help caressing down the kitten's small body.
"You're too small. Why don't you grow up, hm? You're making Shizun worry."
The kitten chirps, then continues to purr, pleased, climbing up Luo Binghe's chest from his lap. But the travel up is treacherous and the kitten nearly slips - Binghe's quick reflexes catch it though.
"Be careful. How clumsy. If you get hurt, Shizun won't forgive me."
The kitten continues its journey undettered and finally nestles into the junction between Binghe's neck and shoulder. Its small body is warm and vibrating with loud purrs, and it occasionally turns to sniff at Binghe's face and lick it.
"Stop that." He says, without any bite, and scratches between the kitten's ears with two of his fingers. The animal seems to take that as encouragement and pushes its head against Luo Binghe's cheek.
He turns his head to meet small, green eyes and a purring, black nose.
He cannot resist the impulse to lay a kiss over the kitten's forehead.
Maybe she isn't so bad, after all.
--
"Binghe, I'm-"
When Shen Qingqiu walks into the room, his mouth closes and his eyes soften with fondness. Sat on the bamboo couch, clearly waiting for him, Luo Binghe's head is angled to a side, the small, black kitten tucked into his shoulder and serving as the tiniest pillow in the world. They are both asleep, wearing matching expressions of content and relaxation.
Shen Qingqiu wished he had his camera right now.
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